jrsity 

uthern 

ibrary 


THE    ROMANCE    OF 

ISABEL  LADY  BURTON 

H 

THE    STORY    OF    HER    LIFE 


WITH   PORTRAITS   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS 


VOLUME  I 


NEW  YORK 

DODD  MEAD  &  COMPANY 

1897 


Copyright  1897 
BY  DODD  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 


Jlntotrsttg  l)mts 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON  CAMBRIDGE  USA 


SO 

HER    SISTER 

MRS.    GERALD    FITZGERALD 
I  DEDICATE   THIS   BOOK 


PREFACE 


T  ADY  BURTON  began  her  autobiography  a  few 
-* — '  months  before  she  died,  but  in  consequence 
of  rapidly  failing  health  she  made  little  progress  with 
it.  After  her  death,  which  occurred  in  the  spring  of 
last  year,  it  seemed  good  to  her  sister  and  executrix, 
Mrs.  Fitzgerald,  to  entrust  the  unfinished  manuscript 
to  me,  together  with  sundry  papers  and  letters,  with 
a  view  to  my  compiling  the  biography.  Mrs.  Fitz- 
gerald wished  me  to  undertake  this  work,  as  I  had  the 
good  fortune  to  be  a  friend  of  the  late  Lady  Burton, 
and  one  with  whom  she  frequently  discussed  literary 
matters  ;  we  were,  in  fact,  thinking  of  writing  a 
romance  together,  but  her  illness  prevented  us. 

The  task  of  compiling  this  book  has  not  been  an 
easy  one,  mainly  for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place, 
though  Lady  Burton  published  comparatively  little, 


MII  preface 

she  was  a  voluminous  writer,  and  she  left  behind 
her  such  a  mass  of  letters  and  manuscripts  that  the 
sorting  of  them  alone  was  a  formidable  task.  The 
difficulty  has  been  to  keep  the  book  within  limits. 
In  the  second  place,  Lady  Burton  has  written  the 
Life  of  her  husband  ;  and  though  in  that  book  she 
studiously  avoided  putting  herself  forward,  and  gave 
to  him  all  the  honour  and  the  glory,  her  life  was  so 
absolutely  bound  up  with  his,  that  of  necessity  she 
covered  some  of  the  ground  which  I  have  had  to  go 
over  again,  though  not  from  the  same  point  of  view. 
So  much  has  been  written  concerning  Sir  Richard 
Burton  that  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  tell  again 
the  story  of  his  life  here,  and  I  have  therefore  been 
able  to  write  wholly  of  his  wife,  an  equally  congenial 
task.  Lady  Burton  was  as  remarkable  as  a  woman 
as  her  husband  was  as  a  man.  Her  personality  was 
as  picturesque,  her  individuality  as  unique,  and, 
allowing  for  her  sex,  her  life  was  as  full  and  varied 
as  his. 

It  has  been  my  aim,  wherever  possible,  throughout 
this  book  to  let  Lady  Burton  tell  the  story  of  her 
life  in  her  own  words,  and  keep  my  narrative  in  the 
background.  To  this  end  I  have  revised  and  in- 
corporated the  fragment  of  autobiography  which  was 


jpretace  i* 

cut  short  by  her  death,  and  I  have  also  pieced  together 
all  her  letters,  manuscripts,  and  journals  which  have 
a  bearing  on  her  travels  and  adventures.  I  have 
striven  to  give  a  faithful  portfait  of  her  as  revealed 
by  herself.  In  what  I  have  succeeded,  the  credit  is 
hers  alone  :  in  what  I  have  failed,  the  fault  is  mine, 
for  no  biographer  could  have  wished  for  a  more 
eloquent  subject  than  this  interesting  and  fascinating 
woman.  Thus,  however  imperfectly  I  may  have  done 
my  share  of  the  work,  it  remains  the  record  of  a  good 
and  noble  life — a  life  lifted  up,  a  life  unique  in  its 
self-sacrifice  and  devotion. 

Last  December,  when  this  book  was  almost  completed, 
a  volume  was  published  calling  itself  'The  'True  Life 
of  Captain  Sir  Richard  F.  Burton,  written  by  his  niece, 
Miss  Georgiana  M.  Stisted,  stated  to  be  issued  "with 
the  authority  and  approval  of  the  Burton  family." 
This  statement  is  not  correct — at  any  rate  not  wholly 
so  ;  for  several  of  the  relatives  of  the  late  Sir  Richard 
Burton  have  written  to  Lady  Burton's  sister  to  say 
that  they  altogether  disapprove  of  it.  The  book  con- 
tained a  number  of  cruel  and  unjust  charges  against 
Lady  Burton,  which  were  rendered  worse  by  the  fact 
that  they  were  not  made  until  she  was  dead  and  could 
no  longer  defend  herself.  Some  of  these  attacks  were 


x  preface 

so  paltry  and  malevolent,  and  so  utterly  foreign  to 
Lady  Burton's  generous  and  truthful  character,  that 
they  may  be  dismissed  with  contempt.  The  many 
friends  who  knew  anti  loved  her  have  not  credited 
them  for  one  moment,  and  the  animus  with  which 
they  were  written  is  so  obvious  that  they  have  carried 
little  weight  with  the  general  public.  But  three  specific 
charges  call  for  particular  refutation,  as  silence  on  them 
might  be  misunderstood.  I  refer  to  the  statements 
that  Lady  Burton  was  the  cause  of  her  husband's  recall 
from  Damascus  ;  that  she  acted  in  bad  faith  in  the 
matter  of  his  conversion  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  ; 
and  to  the  impugning  of  the  motives  which  led  her  to 
burn  'The  Scented  Garden.  I  should  like  to  emphasize 
the  fact  that  none  of  these  controversial  questions 
formed  part  of  the  original  scheme  of  this  book,  and 
they  would  not  have  been  alluded  to  had  it  not 
been  for  Miss  Stisted's  unprovoked  attack  upon  Lady 
Burton's  memory.  It  is  only  with  reluctance,  and 
solely  in  a  defensive  spirit,  that  they  are  touched  upon 
now.  Even  so,  I  have  suppressed  a  good  deal,  for 
there  is  no  desire  on  the  part  of  Lady  Burton's  relatives 
or  myself  to  justify  her  at  the  expense  of  the  husband 
whom  she  loved,  and  who  loved  her.  But  in  vindicating 
her  it  has  been  necessary  to  tell  the  truth.  If  therefore, 


preface  xi 

in  defending  Lady  Burton  against  these  accusations, 
certain  facts  have  come  to  light  which  would  other- 
wise have  been  left  in  darkness,  those  who  have 
wantonly  attacked  the  dead  have  only  themselves  to 
blame. 

In  conclusion,  I  should  like  to  acknowledge  my 
indebtedness  to  those  who  have  kindly  helped  me  to 
make  this  book  as  complete  as  possible.  I  am  espe- 
cially grateful  to  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  for  much  encourage- 
ment and  valuable  help,  including  her  reading  of  the 
proofs  as  they  went  through  the  press,  so  that  the 
book  may  be  truly  described  as  an  authorized  biography. 
I  also  wish  to  thank  Miss  Plowman,  the  late  Lady 
Burton's  secretary,  who  has  been  of  assistance  in  many 
ways.  I  acknowledge  with  gratitude  the  permission 
of  Captain  L.  H.  Gordon  to  publish  certain  letters 
which  the  late  General  Gordon  wrote  to  Sir  Richard 
and  Lady  Burton,  and  the  assistance  which  General 
Gordon's  niece,  Miss  Dunlop,  kindly  gave  me  in 
this  matter.  My  thanks  are  likewise  due  to  the 
Executors  of  the  late  Lord  Leighton  for  permission 
to  publish  Lord  Leighton's  portrait  of  Sir  Richard 
Burton;  to  Lady  Thornton  and  others  for  many 
illustrations ;  and  to  Lady  Salisbury,  Lady  Guendolen 
Ramsden,  Lord  Llandaff,  Sir  Henry  Elliot,  Mr. 


ui  preface 

W.  F.  D.  Smith,  Baroness  Paul  de  Ralli,  Miss  Bishop, 
Miss  Alice  Bird,  Madame  de  Gutmansthal-Benvenuti, 
and  others,  for  permission  to  publish  sundry  letters 
in  this  book. 

W.  H.  WILKINS. 

8,  MANDEVILLE  PLACE,  W., 
April,  1897. 


CONTENTS    OF   VOL.    I 


BOOK     I 

WAITING 
CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

BIRTH    AND    LINEAGE     .......  3 

CHAPTER   II 
MY   CHILDHOOD   AND   YOUTH 13 

CHAPTER   III 
MY   FIRST   SEASON 26 

CHAPTER   IV 

BOULOGNE  :     I    MEET    MY    DESTINY  .  .  .  .  .  4O 

CHAPTER   V 
FOUR   YEARS   OF    HOPE    DEFERRED  .  .  .  ,62 

CHAPTER   VI 

RICHARD    LOVES    ME      .....  8O 


XIV 


Contents 


CHAPTER  VII 
MY   CONTINENTAL   TOUR  :     ITALY    . 

CHAPTER  VIII 

MY   CONTINENTAL   TOUR  :    SWITZERLAND 

CHAPTER  IX 

THEY    MEET   AGAIN        .... 
CHAPTER  X 

AT    LAST     , 


117 


140 


157 


FERNANDO    PO 


BOOK     II 

WEDDED 
CHAPTER  I 


CHAPTER  II 

MADEIRA    ...... 

CHAPTER  III 

TENERIFFE  ..... 

CHAPTER   IV 
A   TRIP   TO    PORTUGAL 


.  184 
198 
226 


Contents 

CHAPTER  V 


BRAZIL        . 


CHAPTER   VI 
OUR   EXPEDITION    INTO    THE    INTERIOR    .  .  .  .2/1 

CHAPTER   VII 
MORRO    VELHO   AND    ITS    ENVIRONS  ....         2Q5 

CHAPTER  VIII 
MY   LONELY   RIDE   TO    RIO      ......         $22 

CHAPTER   IX 
HOME   AGAIN         ......  .  342 

CHAPTER  X 
MY   JOURNEY    TO    DAMASCUS  .  .  .  .  .         360 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOL.    I 


PAGE 

LADY   BURTON  AT   THE   AGE   OF    17     (FROM   AN   UNPUBLISHED 

DRAWING) Frontispiece 

WARDOUR   CASTLE .  6 

NEW    HALL,    CHELMSFORD  .            .            .            .            .            .            .  1 8 

RICHARD   BURTON   IN    1848    (IN  NATIVE   DRESS)   .            .           .  50 

THE   RAMPARTS,    BOULOGNE           .            .            .            .            .            .  52 

BURTON   ON   HIS   PILGRIMAGE   TO   MECCA        .            .           .           .  70 

VENICE   .            .            .            . 112 

LADY   BURTON  AT  THE  TIME   OF   HER   MARRIAGE.            .            .  1 66 

THE   BAY   OF   FUNCHAL,    MADEIRA          .            .            .             .  IQO 

THE   PEAK   OF  TENERIFFE,    FROM  THE   VALE   OF  OROTAVA         .  212 

SANTOS 248 

PETROPOLIS 258 

SAO   PAULO 264 

THE    BAY   OF   RIO 272 

THE   SLAVE   MUSTER   AT   MORRO   VELHO          .            .            .            .  296 

LADY   BURTON   IN    1869     .......  350 

THE   BOULEVART,    ALEXANDRIA 364 

DAMASCUS,    FROM    THE   DESERT 37 2 


BOOK    I 

WAITING 
(1831—1861) 

I  have  known  love  and  yearning  from  the  years 
Since  mother-milk  I  drank,  nor  e'er  was  free. 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "Arabian  Nights"). 


VOL.    I. 


CHAPTER   I 

BIRTH  AND  LINEAGE 

Man  is  known  among  men  as  his  deeds  attest, 
Which  make  noble  origin  manifest. 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "Arabian  Nights"). 

T  SAB  EL,  Lady  Burton,  was  by  birth  an  Arundell 
±_  of  Wardour,  a  daughter  of  one  of  the  oldest 
and  proudest  houses  of  England.  The  Arundells  of 
Wardour  are  a  branch  of  the  great  family  of  whom 
it  was  sung : 

Ere  William  fought  and  Harold  fell 
There  were  Earls  of  Arundell. 

The  Earls  of  Arundell  before  the  Conquest  are 
somewhat  lost  in  the  mists  of  antiquity,  and  they  do 
not  affect  the  branch  of  the  family  from  which  Lady 
Burton  sprang.  This  branch  traces  its  descent  in  a 
straight  line  from  one  Roger  de  Arundell,  who,  accord- 
ing to  Domesday ',  had  estates  in  Dorset  and  Somerset, 
and  was  possessed  of  twenty-eight  lordships.  The 
Knights  of  Arundell  were  an  adventurous  race.  One 
of  the  most  famous  was  Sir  John  Arundell,  a  valiant 

3 


4       tlbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  3Burton 

commander  who  served  Henry  VI.  in  France.  The 
grandson  of  this  doughty  knight,  also  Sir  John 
Arundell,  was  made  a  Knight  Banneret  by  Henry  VII. 
for  his  valour  at  the  sieges  of  Tiroven  and  Tournay, 
and  the  battle  that  ensued.  At  his  death  his  large 
estates  were  divided  between  the  two  sons  whom 
he  had  by  his  first  wife,  the  Lady  Eleanor  Grey, 
daughter  of  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  whose  half-sister 
was  the  wife  of  Henry  VII.  The  second  son,  Sir 
Thomas  Arundell,  was  given  Wardour  Castle  in 
Wiltshire,  and  became  the  ancestor  of  the  Arundells 
of  Wardour. 

The  House  of  Wardour  was  therefore  founded  by 
Sir  Thomas  Arundell,  who  was  born  in  1500.  He 
had  the  good  fortune  in  early  life  to  become  the 
pupil,  and  ultimately  to  win  the  friendship,  of  Cardinal 
Wolsey.  He  played  a  considerable  part  throughout 
the  troublous  times  which  followed  on  the  King's 
quarrel  with  the  Pope,  and  attained  great  wealth  and 
influence.  He  was  a  cousin-german  of  Henry  VIII., 
and  he  was  allied  to  two  of  Henry's  ill-fated  queens 
through  his  marriage  with  Margaret,  daughter  of 
Lord  Edmond  Howard,  son  of  Thomas,  Duke  of 
Norfolk.  His  wife  was  a  cousin-german  of  Anne 
Boleyn  and  a  sister  of  Catherine  Howard.  Sir  Thomas 
Arundell  was  a  man  of  intellectual  powers  and  admin- 
istrative ability.  He  became  Chancellor  to  Queen 
Catherine  Howard,  and  he  stood  high  in  the  favour 
of  Henry  VIII.  But  in  the  following  reign  evil 
days  came  upon  him.  He  was  accused  of  conspiring 
with  the  Lord  Protector  Somerset  to  kill  the  Earl  of 


Btrtb  anfc  Xtnea^e  5 

Northumberland,  a  charge  utterly  false,  the  real  reason 
of  his  impeachment  being  that  Sir  Thomas  had  been 
chief  adviser  to  the  Duke  of  Somerset  and  had 
identified  himself  with  his  policy.  He  was  beheaded 
on  Tower  Hill  a  few  days  after  the  execution  of  the 
Duke  of  Somerset.  Thus  died  the  founder  of  the 
House  of  Wardour. 

In  Sir  Thomas  Arundell's  grandson,  who  afterwards 
became  first  Lord  Arundell  of  Wardour,  the  adven- 
turous spirit  of  the  Arundells  broke  forth  afresh. 
When  a  young  man,  Thomas  Arundell,  commonly 
called  "The  Valiant,"  went  over  to  Germany,  and 
served  as  a  volunteer  in  the  Imperial  army  in  Hungary. 
He  fought  against  the  Turks,  and  in  an  engagement 
at  Grau  took  their  standard  with  his  own  hands.  On 
this  account  Rudolph  II.,  Emperor  of  Germany,  created 
him  Count  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  and  decreed 
that  "every  of  his  children  and  their  descendants 
for  ever,  of  both  sexes,  should  enjoy  that  title."  So 
runs  the  wording  of  the  charter.1  On  Sir  Thomas 
Arundell's  return  to  England  a  warm  dispute  arose 
among  the  Peers  whether  such  a  dignity,  so  conferred 
by  a  foreign  potentate,  should  be  allowed  place  or 
privilege  in  England.  The  matter  was  referred  to 

1  The  name  of  Arundell  of  Wardour  appears  in  the  official 
Austrian  lists  of  the  Counts  of  the  Empire.  The  title  is  still  enjoyed 
by  Lord  Arundell  and  all  the  members  of  the  Arundell  family  of 
both  sexes.  Lady  Burton  always  used  it  out  of  England,  and  took 
rank  and  precedence  at  foreign  courts  as  the  Countess  Isabel 
Arundell  (of  Wardour).  She  used  to  say,  characteristically:  "If 
the  thing  had  been  bought,  I  should  not  have  cared  ;  but  since  it 
was  given  for  a  brave  deed  I  am  right  proud  of  it. ' ' 


6       zrbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcg  Eurton 

Queen  Elizabeth,  who  answered,  "  that  there  was  a 
close  tie  of  affection  between  the  Prince  and  subject, 
and  that  as  chaste  wives  should  have  no  glances  but 
for  their  own  spouses,  so  should  faithful  subjects  keep 
their  eyes  at  home  and  not  gaze  upon  foreign  crowns ; 
that  we  for  our  part  do  not  care  that  our  sheep  should 
wear  a  stranger's  marks,  nor  dance  after  the  whistle 
of  every  foreigner."  Yet  it  was  she  who  sent  Sir 
Thomas  Arundell  in  the  first  instance  to  the  Emperor 
Rudolph  with  a  letter  of  introduction,  in  which  she 
spoke  of  him  as  her  "  dearest  cousin,"  and  stated  that 
the  descent  of  the  family  of  Arundell  was  derived 
from  the  blood  royal.  James  I.,  while  following 
in  the  footsteps  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  refusing  to 
acknowledge  the  title  conferred  by  the  Emperor, 
acknowledged  Sir  Thomas  Arundell's  worth  by  creating 
him  a  Baron  of  England  under  the  title  of  Baron 
Arundell  of  Wardour.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that 
James  II.  recognized  the  right  of  the  title  of  Count 
of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  to  Lord  Arundell  and 
all  his  descendants  of  both  sexes  in  a  document  of 
general  interest  to  Catholic  families. 

Thomas,  second  Baron  Arundell  of  Wardour, 
married  Blanche,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Worcester. 
This  Lady  Arundell  calls  for  special  notice,  as  she  was 
in  many  ways  the  prototype  of  her  lineal  descendant, 
Isabel.  When  her  husband  was  away  serving  with 
the  King's  army  in  the  Great  Rebellion,  Lady  Arundell 
bravely  defended  Wardour  for  nine  days,  with  only 
a  handful  of  men,  against  the  Parliamentary  forces 
who  besieged  it.  Lady  Arundell  then  delivered  up 


JBirtb  anfc  Xfneage  7 

the  castle  on  honourable  terms,  which  the  besiegers 
broke  when  they  took  possession.  They  were,  how- 
ever, soon  dislodged  by  Lord  Arundell,  who,  on  his 
return,  ordered  a  mine  to  be  sprung  under  his  castle, 
and  thus  sacrificed  the  ancient  and  stately  pile  to  his 
loyalty.  He  and  his  wife  then  turned  their  backs  on 
their  ruined  home,  and  followed  the  King's  fortunes, 
she  sharing  with  uncomplaining  love  all  her  husband's 
trials  and  privations.  Lord  Arundell,  like  the  rest 
of  the  Catholic  nobility  of  England,  was  a  devoted 
Royalist.  He  raised  at  his  own  expense  a  regiment 
of  horse  for  the  service  of  Charles  I.,  and  in  the 
battle  of  Lansdowne,  when  fighting  for  the  King,  he 
was  shot  in  the  thigh  by  a  brace  of  pistol  bullets, 
whereof  he  died  in  his  Majesty's  garrison  at  Oxford. 
He  was  buried  with  great  pomp  in  the  family  vault 
at  Tisbury.  His  devoted  wife,  like  her  descendant 
Isabel  Burton,  that  other  devoted  wife  who  strongly 
resembled  her,  survived  her  husband  barely  six  years. 
She  died  at  Winchester ;  but  she  was  buried  by  his 
side  at  Tisbury,  where  her  monument  may  still  be 
seen. 

Henry,  third  Lord  Arundell,  succeeded  his  father 
in  his  titles  and  honours.  Like  m?ny  who  had  made 
great  sacrifices  to  the  Royal  cause,  he  did  not  find  an 
exceeding  great  reward  when  the  King  came  into  his 
own  again.  As  Arundell  of  Wardour  was  one  of  the 
strictest  and  most  loyal  of  the  Catholic  families  of 
England,  its  head  was  marked  out  for  Puritan  persecu- 
tion. In  1678  Lord  Arundell  was,  with  four  other 
Catholic  lords,  committed  a  prisoner  to  the  Tower, 


Ubc  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  JBurton 

upon  the  information  of  the  infamous  Titus  Gates  and 
other  miscreants  who  invented  the  "  Popish  Plots." 
Lord  Arundell  was  confined  in  the  Tower  until  1683, 
when  he  was  admitted  to  bail.  Five  years'  imprison- 
ment for  no  offence  save  fidelity  to  his  religion  and 
loyalty  to  his  king  was  a  cruel  injustice  ;  but  in  those 
days,  when  the  blood  of  the  best  Catholic  families 
in  England  ran  like  water  on  Tower  Hill,  Lord 
Arundell  was  lucky  to  have  escaped  with  his  head. 
On  James  II.'s  accession  to  the  throne  he  was  sworn 
of  the  Privy  Council  and  held  high  office.  On  King 
James's  abdication  he  retired  to  his  country  seat, 
where  he  lived  in  great  style  and  with  lavish  hospi- 
tality. Among  other  things  he  kept  a  celebrated  pack 
of  hounds,  which  afterwards  went  to  Lord  Castlehaven, 
and  thence  were  sold  to  Hugo  Meynell,  and  became  the 
progenitors  of  the  famous  Quorn  pack. 

Henry,  the  sixth  Baron,  is  noteworthy  as  being  the 
last  Lord  Arundell  of  Wardour  from  whom  Isabel 
was  directly  descended  (see  p.  9),  and  with  him  our 
immediate  interest  in  the  Arundells  of  Wardour  ceases. 
Lady  Burton  was  the  great-granddaughter  of  James 
Everard  Arundell,  his  third  and  youngest  son.  Her 
father,  Mr.  Henry  Raymond  Arundell,  was  twice 
married.  His  first  wife  died  within  a  year  of  their 
marriage,  leaving  one  son.  Two  years  later,  in  1830, 
Mr.  Henry  Arundell  married  Miss  Eliza  Gerard,  a 
sister  of  Sir  Robert  Gerard  of  Garswood,  who  was 
afterwards  created  Lord  Gerard.  The  following  year, 
1831,  Isabel,  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  was  born. 

I  have  dwelt  on  Lady  Burton's  lineage  for  several 


P-?'M                          <&W'-|83<^S 

y  ^  3                                      5p                                            10 

J^er-i 

tdSreg-og'^                              P*?*^                                                                  5? 

•"Mjf 

I-3-  "  i"| 

His    ^^^                  ^ 

|KW2»2>«3 
jfhSpS^W  „ 

u 

g|P| 

5»' 

&§•»          1 

^ 

O  C"^  ^  3 

o  **  "                  3 

(>? 

P>HH 

3.°  o§ 

•go  S.      S,>2,' 

3ss_ 

01  If  3!                     Scan     '"'s  ^^ 

g^ 

c  3  3 

re*S                                   '    S  5"        H-re'S'^ 

w        ** 

PP-g. 

P-Spag^s  S 

tf  3         re  re^      . 
O-D-tt.^                                                              "^ 

3                  8, 

0,0-^3             g" 
v3  &&            ** 

Jivg    ?                      » 

-O   o  f-  O   S"  |_iuf  S, 

«     M     MPI 

•  -  w 

"3         £•  vrt  ^^    re 

0°"^      M^   "^      QJ^ 

S                      cv 

™      nTrfo  <rc  "  " 

w    SiSPg-g  • 

M 

1       ^ 

2.    ^  S^ 

-S        en 

W)   "     &*  3 

IfcStw 

1     sp 

fill 

^  tr'P  &- 

3             ^ 

Kg-'                §, 

3  M  S'o'S 

P-^'    g 

^c- 

re  P  —s                J^ 

sjf°-3H:- 
jj-p-Bj  " 

pis 

9°  r* 

BJ  O   •*           ^^ 

O-  M     +^* 

3   S'O   > 

oo-vj         3  n  O  3 

n>  re*               ^ 

?i"^ 

P2^§ 

«*q  OJ   ft)1"^   CcJW~ 

o  S        ^  ^- 

j 

B     o  8  3                 *  i 

Jtf              ^7           .^ 

"            2  "                    &* 

S*4  CQ 

gP-^^^ 

o                         Q.O-S-  2 

|«               P-3 

* 

3    on  3    *"*•><    CU 

.    •    cr4  3 

II               ^ 

M-      S- 

§3  §'  ""<"',§•"" 

>5<_               "^^^ffi 

^           3             "  ^                     ^ 

sT  1"     ^ 

2  IJ'O                 ?^i~  o  ^  **• 

P*  5- 

3  p  g                          _3      3                      *~  '•''wK'ii                                             "»"    "** 

re*o>Tj                                 \{               H'WmOS?1                   II                        i^,      § 

5,fc8li!g'P'S>K 

o""S  3    CMJ-S-O-H°,O!!-      &§"    •  Scjij            3 

"S  |'g2.S  g.'giS 

^S  s.   Srfwl  «&gffV       *1    •  B"  -2-n              >                 Js    tcj 

-5-  ||l  " 

::}M|  Hi'   ^      i       ^ 

n^H    5*        *       P         ^  <•» 

"o  §•.> 

S-j1    "                                          S,                    J<" 

3  0«<. 

^-H                                                                        ^4 

. 

*  .    K                        2                  ti* 

p-rg 

o-^S                P.P.OJ               »                             ^H 

lll- 

ffgagT"             ff^w                 ^                               ^~ 

M   S  § 

"ifRw'a                  "?^a                                                      k 

•    "     di 

-                             1     81                           33                                 ^ 

M     M    W41^'  «•   .—                                         O        "       O.                                                                                                                                      V                           Si 

CL  frl  *Tl  O  W  "^  WW 

oo  w  r*      re  re  ^r*  3  ?'i5'  nC             "*                                                                                         *S 

S'  "i  S'  re  n.      re  S 

w      fi*?  7  40*9         £  B                                      ||                                                       Sj_ 

ff^f  s|i''i~ 

re            g'3  3.  3-s!tS.w 

l>»l^  e     3 

§o|s    1'i^oiQ-      a|j       ^^                              ^ 

*0  &!<cl 

re«!^           MB-  o  3*     ~             5^                        *^W                                                             ^ 

3   O>S"  — 

w 

»  M  .p     S  wJ5'-   °  pa,        g                    W^                                               Si 

^^-  ^"••SH&Be                               ^o-                                               s^ 

~    ^2.      P  p  §  3-re  tn(W^                                      w  £ 

s'^^^WB  2W 

I-P3™       **Fig.|^t                                         CnOT                                                                 ^* 

o*  f  S'  Na  S"  «>^  2.  — 

io      Ubc  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaos  JSurton 

reasons.  In  the  first  place,  she  herself  would  have 
wished  it.  She  paid  great  attention  to  her  pedigree, 
and  at  one  time  contemplated  writing  a  book  on  the 
Arundells  of  Wardour,  and  with  this  view  collected  a 
mass  of  information,  which,  with  characteristic  generosity, 
she  afterwards  placed  at  Mr.  Yeatman's  disposal  for 
his  History  of  the  House  of  Arundell.  She  regarded 
her  forefathers  with  reverence,  and  herself  as  their 
product.  But  proud  though  she  was  of  her  ancestry, 
there  never  was  a  woman  freer  from  the  vulgarity 
of  thrusting  it  forward  upon  all  and  sundry,  or  of 
expecting  to  be  honoured  for  it  alone.  Though  of 
noble  descent,  not  only  on  her  father's  side,  but  on 
her  mother's  as  well  (for  the  Gerards  are  a  family  of 
eminence  and  antiquity,  springing  from  the  common 
ancestor  of  the  Dukes  of  Leinster  in  Ireland  and  the 
Earls  of  Plymouth,  now  extinct,  in  England),  yet  she 
counted  it  as  nothing  compared  with  the  nobility  of 
the  inner  worth,  the  majesty  which  clothes  the  man, 
be  he  peasant  or  prince,  with  righteousness.  She  often 
said,  "  The  man  only  is  noble  who  does  noble  deeds," 
and  she  always  held  that 

He,  who  to  ancient  wreaths  can  bring  no  more 
From  his  own  worth,  dies  bankrupt  on  the  score. 

Another  reason  why  I  have  called  attention  to  Lady 
Burton's  ancestry  is  because  she  attached  considerable 
importance  to  the  question  of  heredity  generally,  quite 
apart  from  any  personal  aspect.  She  looked  upon  it 
as  a  field  in  which  Nature  ever  reproduces  herself,  not 
only  with  regard  to  the  physical  organism,  but  also  the 


38frtb  ant>  Xfneage  " 

psychical  qualities.  But  with  it  all  she  was  no  pessimist, 
for  she  believed  that  there  was  in  every  man  an  ever- 
rallying  force  against  the  inherited  tendencies  to  vice 
and  sin.  She  was  always  "  on  the  side  of  the  angels." 

I  remember  her  once  saying :  "  Since  I  leave  none  to 
come  after  me,  I  must  needs  strive  to  be  worthy  of 
those  who  have  gone  before  me." 

And  she  was  worthy —  she,  the  daughter  of  an  ancient 
race,  which  seems  to  have  found  in  her  its  crowning 
consummation  and  expression.  If  one  were  fanciful, 
one  could  see  in  her  many-sided  character,  reflected  as 
in  the  facets  of  a  diamond,  the  great  qualities  which 
had  been  conspicuous  in  her  ancestors.  One  could  see 
in  her,  plainly  portrayed,  the  roving,  adventurous  spirit 
which  characterized  the  doughty  Knights  of  Arundell 
in  days  when  the  field  of  travel  and  adventure  was 
much  more  limited  than  now.  One  could  mark  the 
intellectual  and  administrative  abilities,  and  perhaps  the 
spice  of  worldly  wisdom,  which  were  conspicuous  in  the 
founder  of  the  House  of  Wardour.  One  could  note  in 
her  the  qualities  of  bravery,  dare-devilry,  and  love  of 
conflict  which  shone  out  so  strongly  in  the  old  Knight 
of  Arundell  who  raised  the  sieges  of  Tiroven  and 
Tournay,  and  in  "  The  Valiant "  who  captured  with 
his  own  hands  the  banner  of  the  infidel.  One  could  see 
the  reflex  of  that  loyalty  to  the  throne  which  marked 
the  Lord  Arundell  who  died  fighting  for  his  king.  One 
could  trace  in  her  the  same  tenacity  and  devotion  with 
which  all  her  race  has  clung  to  the  ancient  faith  and 
which  sent  one  of  them  to  the  Tower.  Above  all 
one  could  trace  her  likeness  to  Blanche  Lady  Arundell, 


12      zibe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

who  held  Wardour  at  her  lord's  bidding  against  the 
rebels.  She  was  like  her  in  her  lion-hearted  bravery,  in 
her  proud  but  generous  spirit,  in  her  determination 
and  resource,  and  above  all  in  her  passionate  wifely 
devotion  to  the  man  to  whom  she  felt  herself  "  destined 
from  the  beginning." 

In  sooth  they  were  a  goodly  company,  these  Arundells 
of  Wardour,  and  'tis  such  as  they,  brave  men  and  good 
women  in  every  rank  of  life,  who  have  made  England 
the  nation  she  is  to-day.  Yet  of  them  all  there  was 
none  nobler,  none  truer,  none  more  remarkable  than 
this  late  flower  of  their  race,  Isabel  Burton. 


CHAPTER   II1 

MY  CHILDHOOD  AND   YOUTH 

(1831-1849) 

As  star  knows  star  across  the  ethereal  sea, 
So  soul  feels  soul  to  all  eternity. 

BLESSED  be  they  who  invented   pens,   ink,  and 
paper  ! 

I  have  heard  men  speak  with  infinite  contempt  of 
authoresses.  As  a  girl  I  did  not  ask  my  poor  little 
brains  whether  this  mental  attitude  towards  women 
was  generous  in  the  superior  animal  or  not ;  but  I 
did  like  to  slope  off  to  my  own  snug  little  den,  away 
from  my  numerous  family,  and  scribble  down  the 
events  of  my  ordinary,  insignificant,  uninteresting  life, 
and  write  about  my  little  sorrows,  pleasures,  and 
peccadilloes.  I  was  only  one  of  the  <f  wise  virgins," 
providing  for  the  day  when  I  should  be  old,  blind, 
wrinkled,  forgetful,  and  miserable,  and  might  like  such 
a  record  to  refresh  my  failing  memory.  So  I  went 
back,  by  way  of  novelty,  beyond  my  memory,  and 
gleaned  details  from  my  father. 

1  The  greater  part  of  Book  I.  is  compiled  from  Lady  Burton's 
unfinished  autobiography,  at  which  she  was  working  the  last  few 
months  of  her  life.  The  story  is  therefore  told  mainly  in  her  own 
words. 

13 


14       TTbe  IRomancc  of  Ssabel  Xaos  Burton 

For  those  who  like  horoscopes,  I  was  born  on  a 
Sunday  at  ten  minutes  to  9  a.m.,  March  20,  1831, 
at  4,  Great  Cumberland  Place,  near  the  Marble  Arch. 
I  am  not  able  to  give  the  aspect  of  the  planets  on  this 
occasion  ;  but,  unlike  most  babes,  I  was  born  with  my 
eyes  open,  whereupon  my  father  predicted  that  I  should 
be  very  "  wide  awake."  As  soon  as  I  could  begin  to 
move  about  and  play,  I  had  such  a  way  of  pointing 
my  nose  at  things,  and  of  cocking  my  ears  like  a  kitten, 
that  I  was  called  "  Puss,"  and  shall  probably  be  called 
Puss  when  I  am  eighty.  I  was  christened  Isabel,  after 
my  father's  first  wife,  nee  Clifford,  one  of  his  cousins. 
She  died,  after  a  short  spell  of  happiness,  leaving  him 
with  one  little  boy,  who  at  the  time  I  was  born  was 
between  three  and  four  years  old. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  my  mother,  Elizabeth 
Gerard,  and  Isabel  Clifford,  my  father's  first  wife,  were 
bosom  friends,  schoolfellows,  and  friends  out  in  the 
world  together  ;  and  amongst  other  girlish  confidences 
they  used  to  talk  to  one  another  about  the  sort  of 
man  each  would  marry.  Both  their  men  were  to  be 
tall,  dark,  and  majestic  ;  one  was  to  be  a  literary  man, 
and  a  man  of  artistic  tastes  and  life  ;  the  other  was  to 
be  a  statesman.  When  Isabel  Clifford  married  my 
father,  Henry  Raymond  Arundell  (of  Wardour),  her 
cousin,  my  mother,  seeing  he  was  a  small,  fair,  boyish- 
looking  man,  whose  chief  hobbies  were  hunting  and 
shooting,  said,  "  I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Isabel !  How 
can  you  ?  "  Nevertheless  she  used  to  go  and  help  her 
to  make  her  baby-clothes  for  the  coming  boy.  After 
Isabel's  death  nobody,  except  my  father,  deplored  her 


Cbttfcboofc  anb  32outb  15 

so  much  as  her  dear  friend  my  mother  ;  so  that  my 
father  only  found  consolation  (for  he  would  not  go 
out  nor  meet  anybody  in  the  intensity  of  his  grief) 
in  talking  to  my  mother  of  his  lost  wife.  From 
sympathy  came  pity,  from  pity  grew  love,  and  three 
years  after  Isabel's  death  my  mother  and  my  father 
were  married.  They  had  eleven  children,  great  and 
small ;  I  mean  that  some  only  lived  to  be  baptized  and 
died,  some  lived  a  few  years,  and  some  grew  up.1 

To  continue  my  own  small  life,  I  can  remember 
distinctly  everything  that  has  happened  to  me  from 
the  age  of  three.  I  do  not  know  whether  I  was 
pretty  or  not ;  there  is  a  very  sweet  miniature  of  me 
with  golden  hair  and  large  blue  eyes,  and  clad  in  a 
white  muslin  frock  and  gathering  flowers,  painted  by 
one  of  the  best  miniature  painters  of  1836,  when 
miniatures  were  in  vogue  and  photographs  unknown. 
My  mother  said  I  was  "  lovely,"  and  my  father  said  I 
was  "  all  there "  ;  but  I  am  told  my  uncles  and  aunts 
used  to  put  my  mother  in  a  rage  by  telling  her  how 
ugly  I  was.  My  father  adored  me,  and  spoilt  me 
absurdly ;  he  considered  me  an  original,  a  bit  of 
"  perfect  nature."  My  mother  was  equally  fond  of 
me,  but  severe — all  her  spoiling,  on  principle,  went  to 
her  step-son,  whose  name  was  Theodore. 

When  my  father  and  mother  were  first  married, 
James  Everard  Arundell,  my  father's  first  cousin,  and 
my  godfather,  was  the  then  Lord  Arundell  of  Wardour. 
He  was  reputed  to  be  the  handsomest  peer  of  the 
day,  and  he  was  married  to  a  sister  of  the  Duke  of 

1  Two  only  now  survive  :  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  and  Mrs.  Van  Zeller. 


16       Ube  IRomance  ot  Isabel  Xaoj?  JSurton 

Buckingham.  He  invited  my  father  and  mother,  as 
the  two  wives  were  friends,  to  come  and  occupy  one 
wing  of  Wardour  immediately  after  their  marriage, 
and  they  did  so.  When  James  Everard  died,  my 
parents  left  Wardour,  and  took  a  house  in  Montagu 
Place  at  the  top  of  Bryanston  Square,  and  passed  their 
winters  hunting  at  Leamington. 

We  children  were  always  our  parents'  first  care. 
Great  attention  was  paid  to  our  health,  to  our  walks, 
to  our  dress,  our  baths,  and  our  persons ;  our  food 
was  good,  but  of  the  plainest  ;  we  had  a  head  nurse 
and  three  nursery-maids  ;  and,  unlike  the  present, 
everything  was  upstairs— day  nurseries  and  night 
nurseries  and  schoolroom.  The  only  times  we  were 
allowed  downstairs  were  at  two  o'clock  luncheon  (our 
dinner),  and  to  dessert  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
if  our  parents  were  dining  alone  or  had  very  intimate 
friends.  On  these  occasions  I  was  dressed  in  white 
muslin  and  blue  ribbons,  and  Theodore,  my  step- 
brother, in  green  velvet  with  turn-over  lace  collar 
after  the  fashion  of  that  time.  We  were  not  allowed 
to  speak  unless  spoken  to  ;  we  were  not  allowed  to 
ask  for  anything  unless  it  was  given  to  us.  We 
kissed  our  father's  and  mother's  hands,  and  asked 
their  blessing  before  going  upstairs,  and  we  stood 
upright  by  the  side  of  them  all  the  time  we  were  in 
the  room.  In  those  days  there  was  no  lolling  about, 
no  Tommy-keep-your-fingers-out-of-the-jam,  no  Dick- 
crawling-under-the-table-pinching-people's-legs  as  now- 
adays. We  children  were  little  gentlemen  and  ladies, 
and  people  of  the  world  from  our  birth  ;  it  was  the 


Cbil&boofc  ant)  J^outb  17 

old  school.  The  only  diversion  from  this  strict  rule 
was  an  occasional  drive  in  the  park  with  mother,  in 
a  dark  green  chariot  with  hammer-cloth,  and  green 
and  gold  liveries  and  powdered  wigs  for  coachman 
and  footman  :  no  one  went  into  the  park  in  those 
days  otherwise.  My  daily  heart- twinges  were  saying 
good-night  to  my  mother,  always  with  an  impression 
that  I  might  not  see  her  again,  and  the  other  terror 
was  the  old-fashioned  rushlight  shade,  like  a  huge 
cylinder  with  holes  in  it,  which  made  hideous  shadows 
on  the  bedroom  walls,  and  used  to  frighten  me 
horribly  every  time  I  woke.  The  most  solemn  thing 
to  me  was  the  old-fashioned  Charley,  or  watchman, 
pacing  up  and  down  the  street,  and  singing  in  deep 
and  mournful  tone,  "  Past  one  o'clock,  and  a  cloudy 
morning." 

At  the  age  of  ten  I  was  sent  to  the  Convent  of  the 
Canonesses  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  New  Hall,  Chelms- 
ford,  and  left  there  when  I  was  sixteen.  In  one  sense 
my  leaving  school  so  early  was  a  misfortune  ;  I  was  just 
at  the  age  when  one  begins  to  understand  and  love  one's 
studies.  I  ought  to  have  been  kept  at  the  convent, 
or  sent  to  some  foreign  school  ;  but  both  my  father 
and  mother  wanted  to  have  me  at  home  with  them. 

I  want  to  describe  my  home  of  that  period.  It  was 
called  Furze  Hall,  near  Ingatestone,  Essex.  Dear 
place  !  I  can  shut  my  eyes  and  see  it  now.  It  was  a 
white,  straggling,  old-fashioned,  half-cottage,  half-farm- 
house, built  by  bits,  about  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
road,  from  which  it  was  completely  hidden  by  trees. 
It  was  buried  in  bushes,  ivy,  and  flowers.  Creepers 

VOL.    I.  2 


is       Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcg  Burton 

covered  the  walls  and  the  verandahs,  and  crawled  in 
at  the  windows,  making  the  house  look  like  a  nest  ; 
it  was  surrounded  by  a  pretty  flower  garden  and 
shrubberies,  and  the  pasture-land  had  the  appearance 
of  a  small  park.  There  were  stables  and  kennels. 
Behind  the  house  a  few  woods  and  fields,  perhaps 
fifty  acres,  and  a  little  bit  of  water,  all  enclosed 
by  a  ring  fence,  comprised  our  domain.  Inside  the 
house  the  hall  had  the  appearance  of  the  main  cabin 
of  a  man-of-war,  and  opened  all  around  into  rooms 
by  various  doors  :  one  into  a  small  library,  which  led 
to  a  pretty,  cheerful  little  drawing-room,  with  two 
large  windows  down  to  the  ground  ;  one  opened  on 
to  a  trim  lawn,  the  other  into  a  conservatory  ;  another 
door  opened  into  a  smoking-room,  for  the  male  part  of 
the  establishment,  and  the  opposite  one  into  a  little 
chapel  ;  and  a  dining-room,  running  off  by  the  back 
door  with  glass  windows  to  the  ground,  led  to  the 
garden.  There  was  a  pretty  honeysuckle  and  jessamine 
porch,  which  rose  just  under  my  window,  in  which 
wrens  and  robins  built  their  nests,  and  birds  and  bees 
used  to  pay  me  a  visit  on  summer  evenings.  We  had 
many  shady  walks,  arbours,  bowers,  a  splendid  slanting 
laurel  hedge,  and  a  beautiful  bed  of  dahlias,  all  colours 
and  shades.  A  beech-walk  like  the  aisle  of  a  church 
had  a  favourite  summer-house  at  the  end.  The  pretty 
lawn  was  filled,  as  well  as  the  greenhouse,  with  the 
choicest  flowers  ;  and  we  had  rich  crops  of  grapes,  the 
best  I  ever  knew.  I  remember  a  mulberry  tree,  under 
the  shade  of  which  was  a  grave  and  tombstone  and 
epitaph,  the  remains  and  memorial  of  a  faithful  old 


Cbttoboofc  anfc  l^outb  19 

dog  ;  and  I  remember  a  pretty  pink  may  tree,  a  large 
white  rose,  and  an  old  oak,  with  a  seat  round  it. 
Essex  is  generally  flat ;  but  around  us  it  was  undulating 
and  well-wooded,  and  the  Janes  and  drives  and  rides 
were  beautiful.  We  were  rather  in  a  valley,  and  a 
pretty  road  wound  up  a  rise,  at  the  top  of  which  our 
tall  white  chimneys  could  be  seen  smoking  through 
the  trees.  The  place  could  boast  no  grandeur  ;  but 
it  was  my  home,  I  passed  my  childhood  there,  and 
loved  it. 

We  used  to  have  great  fun  on  a  large  bit  of  water 
in  the  park  of  one  of  .our  neighbours, — in  the  ice  days 
in  winter  with  sledges,  skating,  and  sliding  ;  in  the 
summer-time  we  used  to  scamper  all  over  the  country 
with  long  poles  and  jump  over  the  hedges.  Never- 
theless, I  had  a  great  deal  of  solitude,  and  I  passed 
much  time  in  the  woods  reading  and  contemplating. 
Disraeli's  Tancred  and  similar  occult  books  were 
my  favourites  ;  but  ^ancred^  with  its  glamour  of 
the  East,  was  the  chief  of  them,  and  I  used  to 
think  out  after  a  fashion  my  future  life,  and  try  to 
solve  great  problems.  I  was  forming  my  character. 

And  as  I  was  as  a  child,  so  I  am  now.  I  love  solitude. 
I  have  met  with  people  who  dare  not  pass  a  moment 
alone  ;  many  seem  to  dread  themselves.  I  find  no 
greater  happiness  than  to  be  alone  out  of  doors,  either 
on  the  sea-beach  or  in  a  wood,  and  there  reflect. 
With  me  solitude  is  a  necessary  consolation  ;  I  can 
soothe  my  miseries,  enjoy  my  pleasures,  form  my 
mind,  reconcile  myself  to  disappointments,  and  plan 
my  conduct.  A  person  may  be  sorrowful  without 


20       Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcs  Burton 

being  alone,  and  the  mind  may  be  alone  in  a  large 
assembly,  in  a  crowded  city,  but  not  so  pleasantly.  I 
have  heard  that  captives  can  solace  themselves  by 
perpetually  thinking  of  what  they  loved  best ;  but  there 
is  a  danger  in  excess  of  solitude,  Jest  our  thoughts 
run  the  wrong  way  and  ferment  into  eccentricity. 
Every  right-minded  person  must  think,  and  thought 
comes  only  in  solitude.  He  must  ponder  upon  what 
he  is,  what  he  has  been,  what  he  may  become.  The 
energies  of  the  soul  rise  from  the  veiled  obscurity 
it  is  placed  in  during  its  contact  with  the  world. 
It  is  when  alone  that  we  obtain  cheerful  calm- 
ness and  content,  and  prepare  for  the  hour  of 
action.  Alone,  we  acquire  a  true  notion  of  things, 
bear  the  misfortunes  of  life  calmly,  look  firmly  on 
the  pride  and  insolence  of  the  great,  and  dare  to 
think  for  ourselves,  which  the  majority  of  the  great 
dare  not.  When  can  the  soul  feel  that  it  lives,  and  is 
great,  free,  noble,  immortal,  if  not  in  thought  ?  Oh  ! 
one  can  learn  in  solitude  what  the  worldly  have  no 
idea  of.  True  it  is  that  some  souls  capable  of  reflec- 
tion plunge  themselves  into  an  endless  abyss,  and 
know  not  where  to  stop.  I  have  never  felt  one  of 
those  wild,  joyous  moments  when  we  brood  over  our 
coming  bliss,  and  create  a  thousand  glorious  conse- 
quences. But  I  have  known  enough  of  sorrow  to  ap- 
preciate rightly  any  moment  without  an  immediate  care. 
There  are  moments  of  deep  feeling,  when  one  must 
be  alone  in  self-communion,  alike  to  encounter  good 
fortune  or  danger  and  despair,  even  if  one  draws  out 
the  essence  of  every  misery  in  thought. 


33377    O 
Cbflfcboot)  ant)  l^outb  21 

I  was  enthusiastic  about  gypsies,  Bedawin  Arabs, 
and  everything  Eastern  and  mystic,  and  especially 
about  a  wild  and  lawless  life.  Very  often,  instead  of 
going  to  the  woods,  I  used  to  go  down  a  certain  green 
lane  ;  and  if  there  were  any  oriental  gypsies  there,  I 
would  go  into  their  camp  and  sit  for  an  hour  or  two 
with  them.  I  was  strictly  forbidden  to  associate  with 
them  in  our  lanes,  but  it  was  my  delight.  When  they 
were  only  travelling  tinkers  or  basket-menders,  I  was 
very  obedient ;  but  wild  horses  would  not  have  kept 
me  out  of  the  camps  of  the  oriental,  yet  English- 
named,  tribes  of  Burton,  Cooper,  Stanley,  Osbaldiston, 
and  one  other  tribe  whose  name  I  forget.  My  par- 
ticular friend  was  Hagar  Burton,  a  tall,  slender, 
handsome,  distinguished,  refined  woman,  who  had  much 
influence  in  her  tribe.  Many  an  hour  did  I  pass  with 
her  (she  used  to  call  me  "  Daisy  "),  and  many  a  little 
service  I  did  them  when  any  of  her  tribe  were  sick, 
or  got  into  a  scrape  with  the  squires  anent  poultry, 
eggs,  or  other  things.  The  last  day  I  saw  Hagar 
Burton  in  her  camp  she  cast  my  horoscope  and  wrote 
it  in  Romany.  The  rest  of  the  tribe  presented  me 
with  a  straw  fly-catcher  of  many  colours,  which  I  still 
have.  The  horoscope  was  translated  to  me  by  Hagar. 
The  most  important  part  of  it  was  this : 

"  You  will  cross  the  sea,  and  be  in  the  same  town 
with  your  Destiny  and  know  it  not.  Every  obstacle 
will  rise  up  against  you,  and  such  a  combination  of 
circumstances,  that  it  will  require  all  your  courage, 
energy,  and  intelligence  to  meet  them.  Your  life 
will  be  like  one  swimming  against  big  waves ;  but 


22       abe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

God  will  be  with  you,  so  you  will  always  win.  You 
will  fix  your  eye  on  your  polar  star,  and  you  will  go 
for  that  without  looking  right  or  left.  You  will  bear 
the  name  of  our  tribe,  and  be  right  proud  of  it.  You 
will  be  as  we  are,  but  far  greater  than  we.  Your 
life  is  all  wandering,  change,  and  adventure.  One  soul 
in  two  bodies  in  life  or  death,  never  long  apart.  Show 
this  to  the  man  you  take  for  your  husband. — HAGAR 
BURTON." 

She  also  prophesied  : 

"  You  shall  have  plenty  to  choose  from,  and  wait  for 
years  ;  but  you  are  destined  to  him  from  the  begin- 
ning. The  name  of  our  tribe  shall  cause  you  many  a 
sorrowful,  humiliating  hour  ;  but  when  the  rest  who 
sought  him  in  the  heyday  of  his  youth  and  strength 
fade  from  his  sight,  you  shall  remain  bright  and 
purified  to  him  as  the  morning  star,  which  hangs 
like  a  diamond  drop  over  the  sea.  Remember  that 
your  destiny  for  your  constancy  will  triumph,  the  name 
we  have  given  you  will  be  yours,  and  the  day  will 
come  when  you  will  pray  for  it,  long  for  it,  and  be 
proud  of  it." 

Much  other  talk  I  had  with  Hagar  Burton  sitting 
around  the  camp-fire,  and  then  she  went  from  me  ; 
and  I  saw  her  but  once  again,  and  that  after  many  years. 

This  was  the  ugliest  time  of  my  life.  Every  girl  has 
an  ugly  age.  I  was  tall,  plump,  and  meant  to  be  fair, 
but  was  always  tanned  and  sunburnt.  I  knew  my  good 
points.  What  girl  does  not  ?  I  had  large,  dark  blue, 
earnest  eyes,  and  long,  black  eyelashes  and  eyebrows, 
which  seemed  to  grow  shorter  the  older  I  got.  I  had 


Cbitoboofc  anfc  l^outb  23 

very  white  regular  teeth,  and  very  small  hands  and 
feet  and  waist  ;  but  I  fretted  because  I  was  too  fat 
to  slip  into  what  is  usually  called  "  our  stock  size," 
and  my  complexion  was  by  no  means  pale  and  in- 
teresting enough  to  please  me.  From  my  gypsy  tastes 
I  preferred  a  picturesque  toilette  to  a  merely  smart 
one.  I  had  beautiful  hair,  very  long,  thick  and  soft, 
with  five  shades  in  it,  and  of  a  golden  brown.  My 
nose  was  aquiline.  I  had  all  the  material  for  a  very 
good  figure,  and  once  a  sculptor  wanted  to  sculpt  me, 
but  my  mother  would  not  allow  it,  as  she  thought 
I  should  be  ashamed  of  my  figure  later,  when  I  had 
fined  down.  I  used  to  envy  maypole,  broomstick  girls, 
who  could  dress  much  prettier  than  I  could.  I  was 
either  fresh  and  wild  with  spirits,  or  else  melancholy 
and  full  of  pathos.  I  wish  I  could  give  as  faithful 
a  picture  of  my  character  ;  but  we  are  apt  to  judge 
ourselves  either  too  favourably  or  too  severely,  and  so 
I  would  rather  quote  what  a  phrenologist  wrote  of  me 
at  this  time  : 

"  When  Isabel  Arundell  loves,  her  affection  will  be 
something  extraordinary,  her  devotion  great — in  feet, 
too  great.  It  will  be  her  leading  passion,  and  influence 
her  whole  life.  Everything  will  be  sacrificed  for  one 
man,  and  she  will  be  constant,  unchangeable,  and  jealous 
of  his  affections.  In  short,  he  will  be  her  salvation  or 
perdition  !  Her  temper  is  good,  but  she  is  passionate  ; 
not  easily  roused,  but  when  violently  irritated  she 
might  be  a  perfect  little  demon.  She  is,  however,  for- 
giving. She  is  full  of  originality  and  humour,  and  her 
utter  naturalness  will  pass  for  eccentricity.  She  loves 


24       TTbc  Romance  of  3sabel  Xaog  Burton 

society,  wherein  she  is  wild  and  gay  ;  when  alone,  she 
is  thoughtful  and  melancholy.  She  is  ambitious, 
sagacious,  and  intellectual,  and  will  attract  attention 
by  a  certain  simple  dignity,  by  a  look  in  her  eye  and 
a  peculiar  tone  of  her  voice.  To  sum  her  up  :  Her 
nature  is  noble,  ardent,  generous,  honourable,  and 
good-hearted.  She  has  courage,  both  animal  and 
mental.  Her  faults  are  the  noble  and  dashing  ones, 
the  spicy  kind  to  enlist  one's  sympathies,  the  weeds 
that  spring  from  a  too  luxuriant  soil." 

Thus  wrote  a  professional  phrenologist  of  me,  and 
a  friend  who  was  fond  of  me  at  the  time  endorsed  it 
in  every  word.  With  regard  to  the  ambition,  I  always 
felt  that  if  I  were  a  man  I  should  like  to  be  a  great 
general  or  statesman,  to  have  travelled  everywhere,  to 
have  seen  and  learnt  everything,  done  everything  ;  in 
fine,  t6  be  the  Man  of  the  Day ! 

When  I  was  between  seventeen  and  eighteen  years 
of  age,  we  left  Furze  Hall  and  went  to  London.  The 
place  in  which  we  have  passed  our  youthful  days,  be 
it  ever  so  dull,  possesses  a  secret  charm. 

I  performed  several  pilgrimages  of  adieu  to  every 
spot  connected  with  the  bright  reminiscences  of  youth. 
I  fancied  no  other  fireside  would  be  so  cosy,  that  I 
could  sleep  in  no  other  room,  no  fields  so  green. 
Those  who  know  what  it  is  to  leave  their  quasi-native 
place  for  the  first  time,  never  to  return ;  to  know  every 
stick  and  stone  in  the  place  for  miles  round,  and  take 
an  everlasting  farewell  of  them  all  ;  to  have  one's  pet 
animals  destroyed  ;  to  make  a  bonfire  of  all  the  things 
that  one  does  not  want  desecrated  by  stranger  hands ; 


CbU&boofc  an&  l^outb  25 

to  sit  on  some  height  and  gaze  on  the  general  havoc  ; 
to  reflect  on  what  is,  what  has  been,  and  what  may 
be  in  a  strange  world,  amidst  strange  faces ;  to  shake 
hands  with  a  crowd  of  poor  old  servants,  peasants,  and 
humble  friends,  and  not  a  dry  eye  to  be  seen, — those 
who  have  tasted  something  of  this  will  sympathize  with 
my  feelings  then.  "Ah,  miss,"  the  old  retainers  said, 
"we  shall  have  no  more  jolly  Christmases  ;  we  shall 
have  no  beef,  bread,  and  flannels  next  year  ;  the  hall 
will  not  be  decked  with  festoons  of  holly  ;  there  will 
be  no  more  music  and  dancing ! "  "  No  more  snap- 
dragons and  round  games,"  quoth  the  gamekeeper  ; 
and  his  voice  trembled,  and  I  saw  the  tears  in  his 
eyes  and  in  the  eyes  of  them  all. 

So  broke  up  our  little  home  in  Essex,  and  we  went 
our  ways. 


CHAPTER  III 

MY  FIRST  SEASON 
(1849—1850) 

Society  itself,  which  should  create 
Kindness,  destroys  what  little  we  have  got 
To  feel  for  none  is  the  true  social  art 
Of  the  world's  lovers. 

BYRON. 

I  WAS  soon  going  through  a  London  drilling.  I  was 
very  much  pleased  with  town,  and  the  novelty  of 
my  life  amused  me  and  softened  my  grief  at  leaving  my 
country  home.  I  greatly  disliked  being  primmed  and 
scolded,  and  I  thought  dressing  up  an  awful  bore,  and 
never  going  out  without  a  chaperone  a  greater  one. 
Some  things  amused  me  very  much.  One  thing  was, 
that  all  the  footmen  with  powdered  wigs  who  opened 
the  door  when  one  paid  a  visit  were  obsequious  if  one 
came  in  a  carriage,  but  looked  as  if  they  would  like  to 
shut  the  door  in  one's  face  it  one  came  on  foot.  Another 
was  the  way  people  stared  at  me  ;  it  used  to  make  me 
laugh,  but  I  soon  found  I  must  not  laugh  in  their  faces. 
We  put  our  house  in  order  ;  we  got  pretty  dresses, 
and  we  left  our  cards  ;  we  were  all  ready  for  the 

season's  campaign.     I  made  my  debut  at  a  fancy  ball 

26 


dfirst  Season  27 

at  Almack's,  which  was  then  very  exclusive.     We  went 
under  the  wing  of  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk. 

I  shall  never  forget  that  first  ball.  To  begin  at  the 
beginning,  there  was  my  dress.  How  a  girl  of  the 
present  day  would  despise  it !  I  wore  white  tarlatan 
over  white  silk,  and  the  first  skirt  was  looped  up  to 
my  knee  with  a  blush  rose.  My  hair,  which  was 
very  abundant,  was  tressed  in  an  indescribable  fashion 
by  Alexandre,  and  decked  with  blush  roses.  I  had  no 
ornaments  ;  but  I  really  looked  very  well,  and  was 
proud  of  myself.  We  arrived  at  Almack's  about  eleven. 
The  scene  was  dazzlingly  brilliant  to  me  as  I  entered. 
The  grand  staircase  and  ante-chamber  were  decked  with 
garlands,  and  festoons  of  white  and  gold  muslin  and 
ribbons.  The  blaze  of  lights,  the  odour  of  flowers,  the 
perfumes,  the  diamonds,  and  the  magnificent  dresses  of 
the  cream  of  the  British  aristocracy  smote  upon  my 
senses ;  all  was  new  to  me,  and  all  was  sweet.  Julian's 
band  played  divinely.  My  people  had  been  absent  from 
London  many  seasons,  so  at  first  it  seemed  strange.  But 
at  Almack's  every  one  knew  every  one  else  ;  for  society  in 
those  days  was  not  a  mob,  but  small  and  select.  People 
did  not  struggle  to  get  on  as  people  do  now,  and  we 
were  there  by  right,  and  to  resume  our  position  in  our 
circle.  There  is  much  more  heart  in  the  world  than 
many  people  give  it  credit  for — at  any  rate  in  the  world 
of  the  gentle  by  birth  and  breeding.  Every  one  had  a 
hearty  welcome  for  my  people,  and  some  good-natured 
chaff  about  their  having  "  buried  themselves  "  so  long. 
I  was  at  once  taken  by  the  hand,  and  kindly  greeted 
by  many.  Some  great  personage,  whose  name  I  forget, 


28       ttbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 


gave  a  private  supper,  besides  the  usual  one,  to  which 
we  were  invited  ;  and  in  those  days  there  were  polkas, 
valses,  quadrilles,  and  galops.  Old  stagers  (mammas) 
had  told  me  to  consider  myself  very  lucky  if  I  got 
four  dances,  but  I  was  engaged  seven  or  eight  deep 
soon  after  I  entered  the  ballroom,  and  had  more 
partners  than  I  could  dance  with  in  one  night.  Of 
course  mother  was  delighted  with  me,  and  I  was 
equally  pleased  with  her  :  she  looked  so  young  and 
fashionable  ;  and  instead  of  frightening  young  men 
away,  as  she  had  always  done  in  the  country,  she 
appeared  to  attract  them,  engage  them  in  conversa- 
tion, and  seemed  to  enjoy  everything  ;  she  was  such 
a  nice  chaperone.  I  was  very  much  confused  at  the 
amount  of  staring  (I  did  not  know  that  every  new 
girl  was  stared  at  on  her  first  appearance)  ;  and  one 
may  think  how  vain  and  incredulous  I  was,  when  I 
overheard  some  one  telling  my  mother  that  I  had  been 
quoted  as  the  new  beauty  at  his  club.  Fancy,  poor 
ugly  me  ! 

I  shall  not  forget  my  enjoyment  of  that  first  ball. 
I  had  always  been  taught  to  look  upon  it  as  the 
opening  of  Fashion's  fairy  gates  to  a  paradise  ;  nor 
was  I  disappointed,  for,  to  a  young  girl  who  has 
never  seen  anything,  her  first  entrance  into  a  brilliant 
ballroom  is  very  intoxicating.  The  blaze  of  light  and 
colour,  the  perfume  of  scent  and  bouquet,  the  beautiful 
dresses,  the  spirited  music,  the  seemingly  joyous  multi- 
tude of  happy  faces,  laughing  and  talking  as  if  care 
were  a  myth,  the  partners  flocking  round  the  door  to 
see  the  new  arrivals  —  all  was  delightful  to  me.  But 


ffirst  Season  29 

then  of  course  in  those  days  we  were  not  born  blase, 
as  the  young  people  are  to-day. 

And  I  shall  never  forget  my  first  opera.  I  shall 
always  remember  the  delights  of  that  night.  I  thought 
even  the  crush-room  lovely,  and  the  brilliant  gaslight, 
the  mysterious  little  boxes,  with  their  red-velvet 
curtains,  filled  with  handsome  men  and  pretty  women, 
which  I  think  Lady  Blessington  describes  as  "  rags 
of  roues,  memoranda  books  of  other  women's  follies, 
like  the  last  scene  of  the  theatre  ;  they  come  out  in  gas 
and  red  flame,  but  do  not  stand  daylight."  I  do  not 
say  that,  but  some  of  them  certainly  looked  so.  The 
opera  was  La  Sonambula,  with  Jenny  Lind  and  Gardoni. 
When  the  music  commenced,  I  forgot  I  was  on  earth  ; 
and,  so  passionately  fond  of  singing  and  acting  as  I 
was,  it  was  not  wonderful  that  I  was  quite  absorbed 
by  this  earth's  greatest  delight.  Jenny's  girlish  figure, 
simple  manner,  birdlike  voice,  so  thrilling  and  so  full 
of  assion,  her  perfect  acting  and  irresistible  love- 
making,  were  matchless.  Gardoni  was  very  handsome 
and  very  stiff.  The  scene  where  Gardoni  takes  her 
ring  from  her,  and  the  last  scene  when  he  dis- 
covers his  mistake,  and  her  final  song,  will  ever  be 
engraven  on  my  memory ;  and  if  I  see  the  opera 
a  thousand  times,  I  shall  never  like  it  as  well  as 
I  did  that  night,  for  all  was  new  to  me.  And  after 
— only  think,  what  pleasure  for  me  ! — there  came 
the  ballet  with  the  three  great  stars  Amalia  Ferraris, 
Cerito,  and  Fanny  Essler,  whom  so  few  are  old  enough 
to  remember  now.  There  are  no  ballets  nowadays 
like  those. 


30       ttbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

This  London  life  of  society  and  amusement  was 
delightful  to  me  after  the  solitary  one  I  had  been 
leading  in  the  country.  I  was  ready  for  anything,  and 
the  world  and  its  excitement  gave  me  no  time  to 
hanker  after  my  Essex  home.  The  rust  was  soon 
rubbed  off ;  I  forgot  the  clouds ;  my  spirit  was 
unbroken,  and  I  Jived  in  the  present  scrap  of  rose- 
colour.  They  were  joyous  and  brilliant  days,  for  I 
was  exploring  novelties  I  had  only  read  or  heard  of. 
I  went  through  all  the  sight-seeing  of  London,  and 
the  (to  me)  fresh  amusement  of  shopping,  visiting, 
operas,  balls,  and  of  driving  in  Rotten  Row.  The 
days  were  very  different  then  to  what  they  are  now  : 
one  rose  late,  and,  except  a  cup  of  tea,  breakfast  and 
luncheon  were  one  meal ;  then  came  shopping,  visiting, 
or  receiving.  One  went  to  the  Park  or  Row  at 
5.30,  home  to  dress,  and  then  off  to  dinner  or  the 
opera,  and  out  for  the  night,  unless  there  was  a  party 
at  home.  This  lasted  every  day  and  night  from 
March  till  the  end  of  July,  and  often  there  were  two 
or  three  things  of  a  night.  I  was  tired  at  first  ;  but 
at  the  end  of  a  fortnight  I  was  tired-proof,  and  of 
course  I  was  dancing  mad.  The  Sundays  were  diversified 
by  High  Mass  at  Farm  Street,  and  perhaps  a  Greenwich 
dinner  in  the  afternoon. 

I  enjoyed  that  season  immensely,  for  it  was  all  new, 
and  the  life-zest  was  strong  within  me.  But  I  could 
not  help  pitying  poor  wall-flowers — a  certain  set  of 
girls  who  come  out  every  night,  who  have  been  out 
season  after  season,  and  who  stand  or  sit  out  all  night. 
I  often  used  to  say  to  my  partners,  "  Do  go  and  dance 


Jftrst  Season  31 

with  So-and-so  "  ;  and  the  usual  rejoinder  was,  "  I  really 
would  do  anything  to  oblige  you,  but  I  am  sick  of 
seeing  those  girls."  In  fact,  we  girls  must  not  appear 
on  the  London  boards  too  often  lest  we  fatigue  these 
young  coxcombs.  London,  like  the  smallest  watering- 
place,  is  full  of  cliques  and  sets  on  a  large  scale,  from 
Billingsgate  up  to  the  throne.  The  great  world  then 
comprised  the  Court  and  its  entourage,  the  Ministers, 
and  the  Corps  Diplomatique,  the  military,  naval,  and 
literary  stars,  the  leaders  of  the  fashionable  and 
political  world,  the  cream  of  the  aristocracy  of  England  ; 
and — at  the  time  of  which  I  write — the  old  Catholic 
cousinhood  clan  used  to  hold  its  own.  You  must 
either  have  been  born  in  this  great  world,  or  you  must 
have  arrived  in  it  through  aristocratic  patronage,  or 
through  your  talents,  fame,  or  beauty.  Nowadays  you 
only  want  wealth  !  There  were  some  sets  even  then 
which  were  rather  rapid,  which  abolished  a  good  deal 
of  the  tightness  of  convename,  whose  motto  seemed  to 
be  savoir  vivre,  to  be  easy,  fascinating,  fashionable,  and 
dainty  as  well  as  social. 

I  found  a  ballroom  the  very  place  for  reflection  ; 
and  with  the  sentiment  that  I  should  use  society  for 
my  pleasure  instead  of  being  its  slave,  I  sometimes 
obstinately  would  refuse  a  dance  or  two,  or  sitting-out 
and  talking,  in  order  to  Jean  against  some  pillar  and 
contemplate  human  nature,  in  defiance  of  my  admirers, 
who  thought  me  very  eccentric.  I  loved  to  watch  the 
intriguing  mother  catching  a  coronet  for  her  daughter, 
and  the  father  absorbed  in  politics  with  some  con- 
temporary fogey  ;  the  old  dandy  with  his  frilled  shirt 


3«       TTbe  IRomance  of  Jsabcl  Xat>g  Burton 

capering  in  a  quadrille  the  steps  that  were  danced  in 
Noah's  ark  ;  the  rouged  old  peeress,  whom  you  would 
not  have  taken  to  be  respectable  if  you  did  not  happen 
to  know  her,  flirting  with  boys.  I  saw  other  old 
ones,  with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  almost  mad  with 
excitement  over  cards  and  dice,  and  every  passion, 
except  love,  gleaming  from  their  horrid  eyes.  I  saw 
the  rivalry  amongst  the  beauties.  I  noted  the  brainless 
coxcomb,  who  comes  in  for  an  hour,  leans  against  the 
door,  twirls  his  moustache,  and  goes  out  again — a  sort 
of  "  Aw  !  the  Tenth-don't-dance-young-man  !  "  ;  the 
boy  who  asks  all  the  prettiest  girls  to  dance,  steps  on 
their  toes,  tears  their  dresses,  and  throws  them  down  ; 
the  confirmed,  bad,  intriguing  London  girl,  who  will 
play  any  game  for  her  end  ;  and  the  timid,  delighted 
young  girl,  who  finds  herself  of  consequence  for  the 
first  time.  I  have  watched  the  victim  of  the  heartless 
coquette — the  young  girl  gazing  with  tearful,  longing 
eyes  for  the  man  to  ask  her  to  dance  to  whom  she 
has  perhaps  unconsciously  betrayed  her  affection  ;  she 
in  her  innocence  like  a  pane  of  glass,  the  other 
glorying  in  her  torture,  dancing  or  flirting  with  the 
man  in  her  sight,  only  to  glut  her  vanity  with  another's 
disappointment.  I  have  watched  the  jealousy  of  men 
to  each  other,  vying  for  a  woman's  favour  and  cutting 
each  other  out.  I  have  heard  mothers  running  down 
each  other's  daughters,  dowagers  and  prudent  spinsters 
casting  their  eyes  to  heaven  for  vengeance  on  the 
change  of  manners — even  in  the  Forties  ! — on  the 
licence  of  the  day,  and  the  liberty  of  the  age !  I 
have  heard  them  sighing  for  minuets  and  pigtails,  for  I 


Season  33 

came  between  two  generations — the  minuet  was  old 
and  the  polka  was  new  ;  all  alike  were  polka  mad, 
all  crazed  with  the  idea  of  getting  up  a  new  fast  style, 
but  oh  !  lamblike  to  what  it  is  now  !  I  watched  the  last 
century  trying  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  present. 

One  common  smile  graced  the  lips  of  all — thu 
innocent,  the  guilty,  the  happy,  and  the  wretched  ;  the 
same  colour  on  bright  cheeks,  some  of  it  real,  some 
bought  at  Atkinson's ;  and,  more  wonderful  still,  the 
same  general  outward  decorum,  placidity,  innocence, 
and  good  humour,  as  if  prearranged  by  general  consent. 
I  pitied  the  vanity,  jealousy,  and  gossip  of  many 
women.  I  classed  the  men  too  :  there  were  many 
good ;  but  amongst  some  there  were  dishonour  and 
meanness  to  each  other,  in  some  there  were  coarseness 
and  brutality,  and  in  some  there  was  deception  to 
women  ;  some  were  so  narrow-minded,  so  wanting  in 
intellect,  that  I  believed  a  horse  or  a  dog  to  be  far 
superior.  But  my  ideal  was  too  high,  and  I  had  not 
in  those  days  found  my  superior  being. 

I  met  some  very  odd  characters,  which  made  one 
form  some  rather  useful  rules  to  go  by.  One  man  I 
met  had  every  girl's  name  down  on  paper,  if  she 
belonged  to  the  haute  volee,  her  age,  her  fortune, 
and  her  personal  merits  ;  for  he  said,  "  One  woman, 
unless  one  happens  to  be  in  love  with  her,  is  much 
the  same  as  another."  He  showed  me  my  name 
down  thus  :  "  Isabel  Arundell,  eighteen,  beauty, 
talent  and  goodness,  original — chief  fault  £p  cxr.  cW.  !  " 
Then  he  showed  me  the  name  of  one  of  my  friends  : 
•c  Handsome,  age  seventeen,  rather  missish,  £50,000  ; 

VOL.    I. 


34       ttbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  3Burton 

she  cannot  afford  to  flirt  except  pour  le  bon  motif, 
and  I  cannot  afford,  as  a  younger  brother,  to  marry 
a  girl  with  £50,000.  She  is  sure  to  have  been  brought 
up  like  a  duchess,  and  want  the  whole  of  her  money 
for  pin-money — a  deuced  expensive  thing  is  a  girl 
with  £50,000 ! "  Then  he  rattled  on  to  others. 
I  told  him  I  did  not  think  much  of  the  young  men 
of  the  day.  "  There  now,"  he  answered,  "  drink  of 
the  spring  nearest  to  you,  and  be  thankful ;  by  being 
too  fastidious  you  will  get  nothing." 

I  took  a  great  dislike  to  the  regular  Blue  Stocking ; 
I  can  remember  reading  somewhere  such  a  good 
description  of  her  :  *'  One  who  possesses  every  quali- 
fication to  distinguish  herself  in  conversation,  well 
read  and  intelligent,  her  manner  cold,  her  head  cooler, 
her  heart  the  coolest  of  all,  never  the  dupe  of  her 
own  sentiments;  she  examined  her  people  before  she 
adopted  them,  a  necessary  precaution  where  light  is 
borrowed." 

A  great  curiosity  to  me  were  certain  married  people, 
who  were  known  never  to  speak  to  each  other  at 
home,  but  who  respected  the  convenances  of  society  so 
much  that  even  if  they  never  met  in  private  they 
took  care  to  be  seen  together  in  public,  and  to  enter 
evening  parties  together  with  smiling  countenances. 
Somebody  writes  : 

Have  they  not  got  polemics  and  reform, 
Peace,  war,  the  taxes,  and  what  is  called  the  Nation, 

The  struggle  to  be  pilots  in  the  storm, 
The  landed  and  the  moneyed  speculation, 

The  joys  of  mutual  hate  to  keep  them  warm 
Instead  of  love,  that  mere  hallucination  ? 


ffirst  Season  35 

What  a  contrast  women  are  !  One  woman  is  "  fine 
enough  to  cut  her  own  relations,  too  fine  to  be  seen 
in  the  usual  places  of  public  resort,  and  therefore  of 
course  passes  with  the  vulgar  for  something  exquisitely 
refined."  Another  I  have  seen  who  would  have  sacri- 
ficed all  London  and  its  "  gorgeous  mantle  of  purple 
and  gold "  to  have  wedded  some  pale  shadow  of 
friendship,  which  had  wandered  by  her  side  amid  her 
childhood's  dreary  waste.  And  oh  !  how  I  pity  the 
many  stars  who  fall  out  of  the  too  dangerously  attractive 
circle  of  society!  The  fault  there  seems  not  to  be 
the  sin,  but  the  stupidity  of  being  found  out.  I  say 
one  little  prayer  every  day  :  "  Lord,  keep  me  from 
contamination."  I  never  saw  a  woman  who  renounced 
her  place  in  society  who  did  not  prove  herself  capable 
of  understanding  its  value  by  falling  fifty  fathoms 
lower  than  her  original  fall.  The  fact  is,  very  few 
people  of  the  world,  especially  those  who  have  not 
arrived  at  the  age  of  discretion,  are  apt  to  stop  short 
in  their  career  of  pleasure  for  the  purpose  of  weigh- 
ing in  the  balance  their  own  conduct,  enjoyments,  or 
prospects;  in  short,  it  would  be  very  difficult  for  any 
worldly  woman  to  be  always  stopping  to  examine 
whether  she  is  enjoying ,  the  right  kind  of  happiness 
in  the  right  kind  of  way,  and,  once  fallen,  a  woman 
seems  to  depend  on  her  beauty  to  create  any  interest 
in  her  favour.  I  knew  nothing  of  these  things 
then  ;  and  though  I  think  it  quite  right  that  women 
should  be  kept  in  awe  of  certain  misdemeanours,  I 
cannot  understand  why,  when  one,  who  is  not  bad, 
has  a  misfortune,  other  women  should  join  in  hounding 


36       ttbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

her  down,  and  at  the  same  time  giving  such  licence 
to  really  bad  women,  whom  society  cannot  apparently 
do  without.  'Tis  "one  man  may  steal  a  horse,  and 
another  ma)  not  look  over  the  hedge."  If  a  woman 
fell  down  in  the  mud  with  her  nice  white  clothes  on, 
and  had  a  journey  to  go,  she  would  not  lie  down  and 
wallow  in  the  mud  ;  she  would  jump  up,  and  wash  her- 
self clean  at  the  nearest  spring,  and  be  very  careful 
not  to  fall  again,  and  reach  her  journey's  end  safely. 
But  other  women  do  not  allow  that ;  they  must  haul 
out  buckets  of  the  mud,  and  pour  it  over  the  fallen 
one,  that  there  may  be  no  mistake  about  it  at  all. 
Then  men  seem  to  find  a  wondrous  charm  in  poaching 
on  other  men's  preserves  (though  a  poacher  of  birds 
gets  terrible  punishments,  once  upon  a  time  hanging), 
as  if  their  neighbours'  coverts  afforded  better  shooting 
than  their  own  manors. 

When  I  went  to  London,  I  had  no  idea  of  the  matri- 
monial market ;  I  should  have  laughed  at  it  just  as 
much  as  an  unmarrying  man  would.  I  was  interested 
in  the  fast  girls  who  amused  themselves  at  most  extra- 
ordinary lengths,  not  meaning  to  marry  the  man  ;  and 
at  the  slower  ones  labouring  day  and  night  for  a 
husband  of  some  sort,  without  any  success.  I  heard 
a  lady  one  day  say  to  her  daughter,  "  My  dear,  if  you 
do  not  get  off  during  your  first  season,  I  shall  break 
my  heart."  Our  favourite  men  joined  us  in  walks 
and  rides,  came  into  our  opera-box,  and  barred  all  the 
waltzes  ;  but  it  would  have  been  no  fun  to  me  to  have 
gone  on  as  some  girls  did,  because  I  had  no  desire  to 
reach  the  happy  goal,  either  properly  or  improperly. 


Jfii'st  Season  37 

Mothers  considered  me  crazy,  and  almost  insolent, 
because  I  was  not  ready  to  snap  at  any  good  parti ;  and 
I  have  seen  dukes'  daughters  gladly  accept  men  that 
poor  humble  I  would  have  turned  up  my  nose  at. 

What  think' st  thou  of  the  fair  Sir  Eglamour  ? 
As  of  a  knight  well  spoken,  neat  and  fine ; 
But  were  I  you  he  never  should  be  mine. 

Lots  of  such  men,  or  mannikins,  affected  the  season, 
then  as  now,  and  congregated  around  the  rails  of 
Rotten  Row.  I  sometimes  wonder  if  they  are  men 
at  all,  or  merely  sexless  creatures — animated  tailors' 
dummies.  Shame  on  them  thus  to  disgrace  their  man- 
hood !  'Tis  man's  work  to  do  great  deeds  !  Well, 
the  young  men  of  the  day  passed  before  me  without 
making  the  slightest  impression.  My  ideal  was  not 
among  them.  My  ideal,  as  I  wrote  it  down  in  my 
diary  at  that  time,  was  this  : 

f<  As  God  took  a  rib  out  of  Adam  and  made  a 
woman  of  it,  so  do  I,  out  of  a  wild  chaos  of  thought, 
form  a  man  unto  myself.  In  outward  form  and  in- 
most soul  his  life  and  deeds  an  ideal.  This  species 
of  fastidiousness  has  protected  me  and  kept  me  from 
fulfilling  the  vocation  of  my  sex — breeding  fools  and 
chronicling  small  beer.  My  ideal  is  about  six  feet  in 
height ;  he  has  not  an  ounce  of  fat  on  him  ;  he  has 
broad  and  muscular  shoulders,  a  powerful,  deep  chest ; 
he  is  a  Hercules  of  manly  strength.  He  has  black  hair, 
a  brown  complexion,  a  clever  forehead,  sagacious  eye- 
brows, large,  black,  wondrous  eyes — those  strange  eyes 
you  dare  not  take  yours  from  off  them — with  long 


38       TEbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaos  JSurton 

lashes.  He  is  a  soldier  and  a  man  ;  he  is  accustomed 
to  command  and  to  be  obeyed.  He  frowns  on  the 
ordinary  affairs  of  life,  but  his  face  always  lights  up 
warmly  for  me.  In  his  dress  he  never  adopts  the 
fopperies  of  the  day,  but  his  clothes  suit  him — they 
are  made  for  him,  not  he  for  them.  He  is  a  thorough 
man  of  the  world  ;  he  is  a  few  years  older  than  myself. 
He  is  a  gentleman  in  every  sense  of  the  word — not 
only  in  manners,  dress,  and  appearance,  but  in  birth 
and  position,  and,  better  still,  in  ideas  and  actions ;  and 
of  course  he  is  an  Englishman.  His  religion  is  like 
my  own,  free,  liberal,  and  generous-minded.  He  is  by 
no  means  indifferent  on  the  subject,  as  most  men  are  ; 
and  even  if  he  does  not  conform  to  any  Church,  he 
will  serve  God  from  his  innate  duty  and  sense  of  honour. 
The  great  principle  is  there.  He  is  not  only  not  a 
fidgety,  strait-laced,  or  mistaken-conscienced  man  on 
any  subject ;  he  always  gives  the  mind  its  head.  His 
politics  are  conservative,  yet  progressive.  His  manners 
are  simple  and  dignified^  his  mind  refined  and  sensitive, 
his  temper  under  control  ;  he  has  a  good  heart,  with 
common  sense,  and  more  than  one  man's  share  of 
brains.  He  is  a  man  who  owns  something  more  than 
a  body ;  he  has  a  head  and  heart,  a  mind  and  soul. 
He  is  one  of  those  strong  men  who  lead,  the  master- 
mind who  governs,  and  he  has  perfect  control  over 
himself. 

"This  is  the  creation  of  my  fancy,  and  my  ideal 
of  happiness  is  to  be  to  such  a  man  wife,  comrade, 
friend — everything  to  him,  to  sacrifice  all  for  him,  to 
follow  his  fortunes  through  his  campaigns,  through 


jfirst  Season  39 

his  travels,  to  any  part  of  the  world,  and  endure  any 
amount  of  roughing.  I  speak  of  the  ideal  man  'tis 
true,  and  some  may  mock  and  say,  '  Where  is  the  mate 
for  such  a  man  to  be  found  ? '  But  there  are  ideal 
women  too.  Such  a  man  only  will  I  wed.  I  love  this 
myth  of  my  girlhood — for  myth  it  is — next  to  God  ; 
and  I  look  to  the  star  that  Hagar  the  gypsy  said  was 
the  star  of  my  destiny,  the  morning  star,  which  is  the 
place  I  allot  to  my  earthly  god,  because  the  ideal  seems 
too  high  for  this  planet,  and,  like  the  philosopher's 
stone,  may  never  be  found  here.  But  if  I  find  such 
a  man,  and  afterwards  discover  he  is  not  for  me,  then 
I  will  never  marry.  I  will  try  to  be  near  him,  only 
to  see  him,  and  hear  him  speak  ;  and  if  he  marries 
somebody  else,  I  will  become  a  sister  of  charity  of 
St.  Vincent  de  Paul." 


CHAPTER    IV 

BOULOGNE :  I  MEET  MY  DESTINY 
(1850—1852) 

Was't  archer  shot  me,  or  was't  thine  eyes? 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "Arabian  Nights"). 

r  I  "HE  season  over  (August,  1850),  change  of  air, 
JL  sea-bathing,  French  masters  to  finish  our  educationi 
and  economy  were  loudly  called  for  ;  and  we  turned  our 
faces  towards  some  quiet  place  on  the  opposite  shores 
of  France,  and  we  thought  that  Boulogne  might  suit. 
We  were  soon  ready  and  off. 

We  had  a  pleasant  but  rough  passage  of  fifteen 
hours  from  London.  While  the  others  were  employed 
in  bringing  up  their  breakfasts,  I  sat  on  deck  and 
mused.  Suddenly  I  remembered  that  Hagar  had  told 
me  I  should  cross  the  sea,  and  then  I  wondered  why 
we  had  chosen  Boulogne.  I  was  leaving  England  for 
the  first  time  ;  I  knew  not  for  how  long.  What  should 
I  go  through  there,  and  how  changed  should  I  come 
back?  I  had  gone  with  a  light  heart.  I  was  young 
then  ;  I  loved  society  and  hated  exile.  I  had  written 
in  my  diary  only  a  little  time  before  :  "  As  for  me,  I 

am  never    better  pleased  than  when  I  watch  this  huge 

40 


3Bouloane:  5  fl&eet  /l&s  Besting  41 

game  of  chess,  Life,  being  played  on  that  extensive  chess- 
board, Society."  I  never  felt  so  patriotic  as  that  first 
morning  on  sea  when  the  white  cliffs  faded  from  my 
view.  We  never  appreciate  things  until  we  lose  them, 
and  I  thought  of  what  the  feelings  of  soldiers  and 
sailors  must  be,  going  from  England  and  returning 
after  years  of  absence. 

At  length  the  boat  stopped  at  the  landing-place  at 
Boulogne,  and  we  were  driven  like  a  flock  of  sheep 
between  two  ropes  into  a  papie?'-mache-\ook.mg  building, 
whence  we  were  put  into  a  carriage  like  a  bathing- 
machine,  and  driven  through  what  I  took  to  be  mews, 
but  which  were  in  reality  the  principal  streets.  I 
recognize  in  this  reflection  the  prejudiced  London 
Britisher,  the  John  Bull  ;  for  in  reality  Boulogne  was 
a  most  picturesque  town,  and  our  way  lay  through 
most  picturesque  streets.  After  driving  up  the  hilly 
street,  and  under  an  archway,  in  the  old  town,  we 
came  to  a  good,  large  ho*use  like  a  barn,  No.  4,  Rue 
des  Basses  Chambres,  Haute  Ville,  Boulogne-sur-Mer. 
The  rooms  were  chiefly  furnished  with  bellows  and 
brass  candlesticks ;  there  was  not  the  ghost  of  an  arm- 
chair, sofa,  ottoman,  or  anything  comfortable  ;  and  the 
only  thing  at  all  cheery  was  our  kinswoman,  Mrs. 
Edmond  Jerningham,  who,  apprised  of  our  arrival,  had 
our  fires  lighted  and  beds  made.  She  was  cutting  bread- 
and-butter  and  preparing  tea  for  us  when  we  came 
in,  and  had  ready  for  us  a  turkey  the  size  of  a  fine 
English  chicken.  This  banquet  over,  we  all  turned 
into  bed,  and  slept  between  the  blankets. 

Next  morning  our  boxes  were  still  detained  at  the 


42       TTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

custom-house,  and  my  brothers  and  sisters  and  myself 
got  some  bad  tea  and  some  good  bread-and-butter,  and 
sat  round  in  a  circle  on  the  floor  in  our  night-gowns, 
with  our  food  in  the  middle.  Shortly  after  we  heard 
a  hooting,  laughing,  and  wrangling  in  a  shrill  key, 
"  Coralie,  Rosalie,  Florantine,  Celestine,  Euphrosine  !  " 
so  I  pricked  up  my  ears  in  the  hopes  of  seeing  some 
of  those  pretty,  well-dressed,  piquante  little  soubrettcs 
of  whom  we  had  heard  mother  talk,  when  in  rolled 
about  a  dozen  harpies  with  our  luggage.  At  first  I 
did  not  feel  sure  whether  they  were  men  or  women  ; 
they  had  picturesque  female  dresses  on,  but  their 
manners,  voices,  language,  and  gestures  were  those  of 
the  lowest  costermongers.  They  spoke  to  me  in 
patois,  which  I  did  not  understand,  and  seemed  sur- 
prised to  see  us  all  in  our  nightgowns,  forgetting  that 
we  had  little  else  to  put  on  till  they  had  brought 
the  luggage.  I  gave  them  half  a  crown,  which  they 
appeared  to  think  a  great  tleal  of  money,  and  it  in- 
spirited them  greatly.  They  danced  about  me,  whirled 
me  round,  and  in  five  minutes  one  had  decked  me  up 
in  a  red  petticoat,  another  arrayed  me  in  her  jacket, 
and  a  third  clapped  her  dirty  cap  on  my  head,  and 
I  was  completely  attired  a  la  marine.  I  felt  so  amused 
by  the  novelty  of  the  thing  that  I  forgot  to  be 
angry  at  their  impertinence,  and  laughed  as  heartily 
as  they  did. 

When  they  were  gone,  we  set  to  work  and  unpacked 
and  dressed,  and  by  the  afternoon  were  as  comfortable 
as  we  could  make  ourselves ;  but  we  were  thoroughly 
wretched,  though  mother  kept  telling  us  to  look  at 


3Bouloane :  3  flDeet  /l&E  Destiny  43 

the  beautiful  sky,  which  was  not  half  as  blue  or  bright 
as  on  the  other  side  of  the  water.  We  sauntered  out 
to  look  at  the  town.  I  own  my  first  impressions  of 
France  were  very  unfavourable  ;  Boulogne  looked  to 
me  like  a  dirty  pack  of  cards,  such  as  a  gypsy  pulls 
out  of  her  pocket  to  tell  your  fortune  with.  The 
streets  were  irregular,  narrow,  filthy,  and  full  of  open 
gutters,  which  we  thought  would  give  us  the  cholera. 
The  pavement  was  like  that  of  a  mews  ;  the  houses 
were  unfurnished  ;  the  sea  was  so  far  out  from  our  part 
of  the  town  that  it  might  as  well  not  have  been  there 
— and  such  a  dirty,  ugly-looking  sea  too,  we  thought  ! 
The  harbour  was  full  of  poisonous-looking  smelling 
mud,  and  always  appeared  to  be  low  water.  The 
country  was  dry,  barren,  and  a  dirty  brown  (it  was  a 
hot  August)  ;  the  cliffs  were  black  ;  and  there  was  not 
a  tree  to  be  seen — I  used  to  pretend  to  get  under  a 
lamp-post  for  shade.  Every  now  and  then  we  had 
days  of  fine  weather,  with  clouds  of  dust  and  sirocco, 
or  else  pouring  rain  and  bleak  winds.  From  mother's 
talk  of  the  Continent  we  expected  at  least  the  comforts 
of  Brighton  with  the  romance  of  Naples ;  and  I  shall 
never  forget  our  feelings  when  we  were  told  that,  after 
Paris,  Boulogne  was  the  nicest  town  in  France.  Now 
I  imagine  that  ours  are  the  feelings  of  every  narrow- 
minded,  prejudiced  John  Bull  Britisher  the  first  time 
he  lands  abroad.  It  takes  him  some  little  time  to 
thoroughly  appreciate  all  the  good  things  that  he  does 
get  abroad,  and  to  be  fascinated  with  the  picturesque- 
ness,  and  then  often  he  returns  home  unwillingly. 
We  had  a  cheap  cook,  so  that  our  dinners  would 


44       TTbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcs  Eurton 

have  been  scarcely  served  up  in  my  father's  kennel  at 
home.  When  I  had  eaten  what  I  could  pick  out  by 
dint  of  shutting  my  eyes  and  forcing  myself  to  get  it 
down,  I  used  to  lie  down  daily  on  a  large  horsehair 
sofa,  such  as  one  sees  in  a  tradesman's  office,  and 
sometimes  cry  till  I  fell  asleep  ;  I  felt  so  sorry  for 
us  all. 

The  most  interesting  people  in  Boulogne  were  the 
poissardes,  or  fisherwomen  ;  they  are  of  Spanish  and 
Flemish  extraction,  and  are  a  clan  apart  to  themselves. 
They  are  so  interesting  that  I  wonder  that  no  one  has 
written  a  little  book  about  them.  They  look  down 
on  the  Boulognais ;  they  are  a  fine  race,  tall,  dark, 
handsome,  and  have  an  air  of  good  breeding.  Their 
dress  is  most  picturesque.  The  women  wear  a  short 
red  petticoat,  dark  jacket,  and  snowy  handkerchief 
or  scarf,  and  a  white  veil  tied  round  the  head  and 
hanging  a  little  behind.  On  fete  days  they  add  a 
gorgeous  satin  apron.  These  costumes  are  expensive. 
Their  long,  drooping,  gold  earrings  and  massive  orna- 
ments are  heirlooms,  and  their  lace  is  real.  The  men 
wear  great  jack-boots  all  the  way  up  their  legs,  a  loose 
dark  jacket,  and  red  cap  ;  they  are  fine,  stalwart  men. 
They  had  a  queen  named  Carolina,  a  handsome,  intel- 
ligent woman,  with  whom  I  made  great  friends ;  and 
also  a  captain,  who  had  a  daughter  so  like  me  that 
when  I  used  to  go  to  the  fish-market  at  first  they 
used  to  chaff  me,  thinking  she  had  dressed  up  like  a 
lady  for  fun.  They  also  have  their  different  grades 
of  society ;  they  have  their  own  church,  built  by  them- 
selves, their  separate  weddings,  funerals,  and  christen- 


JSoutoone :  5  fl&eet  flbv  Besting  45 

ings.  They  do  not  marry  out  of  their  own  tribe  or 
associate  with  the  townspeople.  Their  language  has 
a  number  of  Spanish  and  Latin  words  in  it.  They 
have  a  strict  code  of  laws,  live  in  a  separate  part  of 
the  town  on  a  hill,  are  never  allowed  to  be  idle,  and 
are  remarkable  for  their  morality,  although  by  the 
recklessness  of  the  conduct  and  talk  of  some  of  the 
commoner  ones  you  would  scarcely  believe  it.  If  an 
accident  does  occur,  the  man  is  obliged  to  marry  the 
girl  directly.  The  upper  ones  are  most  civil  and  well 
spoken,  and  all  are  open-hearted  and  not  grasping. 
There  is  a  regular  fleet  of  smacks.  The  men  are 
always  out  fishing.  The  women  do  all  the  work  at 
home,  as  well  as  shrimping,  making  tackle,  market- 
ing, getting  their  husbands'  boats  ready  for  sea,  and 
unloading  them  on  return  ;  and  they  are  prosperous 
and  happy.  The  smacks  are  out  for  a  week  or  ten 
days,  and  have  their  regular  turn.  They  have  no 
salmon,  and  the  best  fish  is  on  our  side  of  the  water. 
The  lowest  grade  of  the  girls,  who  serve  as  kinds  of 
hacks  to  the  others,  are  the  shrimping  girls  ;  they  are 
as  vulgar  as  Billingsgate  and  as  wild  as  red  Indians. 
You  meet  them  in  parties  of  thirty  or  forty,  with  their 
clothes  kilted  nearly  up  to  their  waists  and  nets  over 
their  backs.  They  sing  songs,  and  are  sure  to  insult 
you  as  you  pass  ;  but  they  make  off  at  a  double  quick 
trot  at  the  very  name  of  Queen  Carolina. 

At  Boulogne  the  usual  lounge,  both  summer  and 
winter,  was  the  Ramparts,  which  were  extremely  pretty 
and  picturesque.  The  Ramparts  were  charming  in 
summer,  with  a  lovely  view  of  the  town;  and  a  row 


46       Ube  Romance  of  Isabel  Xafcp  JSurton 

down  the  Liane,  or  a  walk  along  its  banks,  was  not  to 
be  despised.  There  were  several  beautiful  country  walks 
in  summer.  The  peasants'  dances,  called  guinguettes, 
were  amusing  to  look  at.  The  hotels  and  table  d1  holes 
were  not  bad.  The  ivory  shops  in  the  town  were 
beautiful ;  the  bonnets,  parasols,  and  dresses  very  c hie  ; 
the  bonbons  delicious.  The  market  was  a  curious, 
picturesque  little  scene.  There  were  pretty  fetes, 
religious  and  profane,  and  a  capital  carnival. 

The  good  society  we  collected  around  us ;  but  it 
was  small,  and  never  mixed  with  the  general  society. 
The  two  winters  we  were  there  were  gay  ;  there  was 
a  sort  of  agreeable  laissez  alter  about  the  place,  and 
the  summers  were  very  pleasant.  But  mother  kept  us 
terribly  strict,  and  this  was  a  great  stimulant  to  do  wild 
things  ;  and  though  we  never  did  anything  terrible, 
we  did  what  we  had  better  have  left  alone.  For 
instance,  we  girls  learned  to  smoke.  We  found  that 
father  had  got  a  very  nice  box  of  cigars,  and  we 
stole  one.  We  took  it  up  to  the  loft  and  smoked  it, 
and  were  very  sick,  and  then  perfumed  ourselves  with 
scent,  and  appeared  in  our  usual  places.  We  per- 
severed till  we  became  regular  smokers,  and  father's 
box  of  cigars  disappeared  one  by  one.  Then  the 
servants  were  accused  ;  so  we  had  to  come  forward, 
go  into  his  den,  make  him  swear  not  to  tell,  and 
confided  the  matter  to  him.  He  did  not  betray  us, 
as  he  knew  we  should  be  almost  locked  up,  and  from 
that  time  we  smoked  regularly.  People  used  to  say, 
"What  makes  those  Arundell  girls  so  pale?  They 
must  dance  too  much."  Alas,  poor  things  !  it  was  just 


JSoulogne  :  5  fl&eet  flbv  Besting  47 


the  want  of  these  innocent  recreations  that  drove  us 
to  so  dark  a  deed  ! 

I  have  already  said  that  we  were  taken  to  Boulogne 
for  masters  and  economy.  Our  house  in  the  Haute 
Ville  was  next  to  the  Convent,  and  close  to  the  future 
rising  —  slowly  rising  —  Notre  Dame.  My  sister  Blanche 
and  I  gradually  made  up  our  minds  to  this  life,  our 
European  Botany  Bay.  We  were  not  allowed  to  walk 
alone,  except  upon  the  Ramparts,  which,  however,  make 
a  good  mile  under  large  shady  trees,  with  views  from 
every  side  —  not  a  bad  walk  by  any  means.  Mother, 
my  sister  Blanche,  and  I  used  to  walk  once  daily  up 
the  lounge,  which  in  fine  weather  was  down  the  Grande 
Rue,  the  Rue  de  1'Ecu,  the  Quai  to  the  end  of  the 
pier  and  back  ;  but  in  winter  our  promenade  may  be 
said  to  be  confined  to  the  Grande  Rue.  There  we 
could  observe  the  notorieties  and  eccentricities  of  the 
place.  There  might  be  a  dozen  or  more  handsome 
young  men  of  good  family,  generally  with  something 
shady  about  money  hanging  over  them,  a  great  many 
pretty,  fast  girls  and  young  married  women,  a  great  deal 
of  open  flirtation,  much  attention  to  dress,  and  plenty 
of  old  half-pay  officers  with  large  families,  who  had  come 
to  Boulogne  for  the  same  reasons  as  ourselves.  If 
there  were  any  good  families,  they  lived  in  the  Haute 
Ville,  and  were  English  ;  there  were,  in  fact,  half  a 
dozen  aristocratic  English  families,  who  stuck  together 
and  would  speak  to  nobody  else.  I  have  learnt  since 
that  often  in  a  place  one  dislikes  there  will  arise 
some  circumstance  that  will  prove  the  pivot  on  which 
part,  or  the  whole,  of  one's  life  may  turn,  and  that 


48       ttbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

scene,  that  town,  or  that  house  will  in  after-years 
retain  a  sacred  place  in  one's  heart  for  that  thing's 
sake,  which  a  gayer  or  a  grander  scene  could  never 
win.  And  so  it  was  with  me. 

At  this  point  it  is  necessary  to  interrupt  Isabel's  auto- 
biography, to  introduce  a  personage  who  will  hereafter 
play  a  considerable  part  in  it.  By  one  of  those  many 
coincidences  which  mark  the  life-story  of  Richard  and 
Isabel  Burton,  and  which  bear  out  in  such  a  curious 
manner  her  theory  that  they  "were  destined  to  one 
another  from  the  beginning,"  Burton  came  to  Boulogne 
about  the  same  time  as  the  Arundells.  This  is  not  the 
place  to  write  a  life  of  Sir  Richard  Burton — it  has  been 
written  large  elsewhere,1  so  that  all  who  wish  may 
read  ;  but  to  those  who  have  not  read  Lady  Burton's 
book,  the  following  brief  sketch  of  his  career  up  to 
this  time  may  be  of  interest. 

Richard  Burton  came  of  a  military  family,  and  one 
whose  sons  had  also  rendered  some  service  both  in 
Church  and  State.  He  was  the  son  of  Joseph  Netterville 
Burton,  a  lieutenant-colonel  in  the  36th  Regiment. 
He  was  born  in  1821.  He  was  the  eldest  of  three 
children  ;  the  second  was  Maria  Catherine  Eliza,  who 
married  General  Sir  Henry  Stisted;  and  the  third 
was  Edward  Joseph  Netterville,  late  Captain  in  the 
37th  Regiment  (Queen's),  who  died  insane.  Colonel 
Burton,  who  had  retired  from  the  army,  and  his 
wife  went  abroad  for  economy  when  Richard  was  only 

1  Life  of  Sir  Richard  Burton,  by  Isabel  his  wife. 


36oulo0ne :  3  d&eet  /l&S  Besting  49 

a  few  months  old,  and  they  settled  at  Tours.  Tours 
at  that  time  contained  some  two  hundred  English 
families,  who  formed  a  society  of  their  own.  These 
English  colonies  knew  little  of  Mrs.  Grundy,  and 
less  of  the  dull  provincialism  of  English  country  towns. 
Thus  Richard  grew  up  in  a  free,  Bohemian  society, 
an  influence  which  perceptibly  coloured  his  after-life. 
His  education  was  also  of  a  nature  to  develop  his 
strongly  marked  individuality.  He  was  sent  to  a 
mixed  French  and  English  school  at  Tours,  and  he 
remained  there  until  his  father  suddenly  took  it  into 
his  head  that  he  would  give  his  boys  the  benefit  ot 
an  English  education,  and  returned  to  England.  But, 
instead  of  going  to  a  public  school,  Richard  was  sent 
to  a  private  preparatory  school  at  Richmond.  He 
was  there  barely  a  year,  when  his  father,  wearying  of 
Richmond  and  respectability,  and  sighing  for  the 
shooting  and  boar-hunting  of  French  forests,  felt  that 
he  had  sacrificed  enough  on  account  of  an  English 
education  for  his  boys,  and  resolved  to  bring  them 
up  abroad  under  the  care  of  a  private  tutor.  This 
resolution  he  quickly  put  into  practice,  and  a  wandering 
life  on  the  Continent  followed,  the  boys  being  educated 
as  they  went  along.  This  state  of  things  continued 
till  Richard  was  nineteen,  when,  as  he  and  his  brother 
had  got  too  old  for  further  home  training,  the  family 
broke  up. 

Richard  was  sent  to  Oxford,  and  was  entered  at 
Trinity  College,  with  the  intention  of  taking  holy 
orders  in  the  Church  of  England.  But  the  roving 
Continental  life  which  he  had  led  did  not  fit  him  for 

VOL.  i.  4. 


50       ZTbe  "Romance  ot  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

the  restraints  of  the  University.  He  hated  Oxford, 
and  he  was  not  cut  out  for  a  parson.  At  the  end  of 
the  first  year  he  petitioned  his  father  to  take  him  away. 
This  was  refused  ;  so  he  set  to  work  to  get  himself  sent 
down — a  task  which  he  accomplished  with  so  much 
success  that  the  next  term  he  was  rusticated,  with  an 
intimation  that  he  was  not  to  return.  Even  at  this 
early  period  of  his  life  the  glamour  of  the  East  was 
strong  upon  him  ;  the  only  learning  he  picked  up  at 
Oxford  was  a  smattering  of  Hindustani  ;  the  only 
thing  that  would  suit  him  when  he  was  sent  down 
was  to  go  to  India.  He  turned  to  the  East  as  the 
.lotus  turns  with  the  sun.  So  his  people  procured  him 
a  commission  in  the  army,  the  Indian  service,  and  he 
sailed  for  Bombay  in  June,  1842. 

He  was  appointed  to  the  I4th  Regiment,  Bombay 
Native  Infantry,  and  he  remained  in  India  without 
coming  home  for  seven  years.  During  those  seven 
years  he  devoted  himself  heart  and  soul  to  the  study 
of  Oriental  languages  and  Oriental  habits.  He  passed 
in  ten  Eastern  languages.  His  interest  in  Oriental  life, 
and  his  strong  sympathy  with  it,  earned  him  in  his 
regiment  the  nickname  of  "  the  white  nigger."  He 
would  disguise  himself  so  effectually  that  he  would  pass 
among  Easterns  as  a  dervish  in  the  mosques  and  as 
a  merchant  in  the  bazaars.  In  1844  Richard  Burton 
went  to  Scinde  with  the  i8th  Native  Infantry,  and 
was  put  on  Sir  Charles  Napier's  staff.  Sir  Charles 
soon  turned  the  young  lieutenant's  peculiar  acquire- 
ments to  account  in  dealing  with  the  wild  tribes  around 
them.  He  accompanied  his  regiment  to  Mooltan  to 


RICHARD    BURTON    IN    1848    IN    NATIVE    DRESS.          [.Page  50. 


Boulogne:  3  fl&eet  /IDE  Besting  5* 

attack  the  Sikhs.  Yet,  notwithstanding  all  these  unique 
qualifications,  when  Richard  Burton  applied  for  the 
post  of  interpreter  to  accompany  the  second  expedition 
to  Mooltan  in  1849,  he  was  passed  over  on  account 
of  a  feeling  against  him  in  high  quarters,  on  which 
it  is  unnecessary  here  to  dwell.  This  disappointment, 
and  the  mental  and  physical  worry  and  fatigue  which 
he  had  undergone,  broke  down  his  health.  He  applied 
for  sick  leave,  and  came  home  on  a  long  furlough. 

After  a  sojourn  in  England,  he  went  to  France 
(1850)  to  join  his  family,  who  were  then  staying  at 
Boulogne,  like  the  Arundells  and  most  of  the  English 
colony,  for  change,  quiet,  and  economy.  Whilst  at 
Boulogne  he  brought  out  two  or  three  books  and 
prepared  another.  Burton  took  a  gloomy  view  of  his 
prospects  at  this  time  ;  for  he  writes,  "  My  career  in 
India  has  been  in  my  eyes  a  failure,  and  by  no  fault 
of  my  own  ;  the  dwarfish  demon  called  '  Interest '  has 
fought  against  me,  and  as  usual  has  won  the  fight." 
There  was  a  good  deal  of  prejudice  against  him  even 
at  Boulogne,  for  unfounded  rumours  about  him  had 
travelled  home  from  India. 

Burton,  as  it  may  be  imagined,  did  not  lead  the  life 
which  was  led  by  the  general  colony  at  Boulogne. 
"  He  had  a  little  set  of  men  friends,"  Isabel  notes  ; 
"  he  knew  some  of  the  French ;  he  had  a  great 
many  flirtations — one  very  serious  one.  He  passed 
his  days  in  literature  and  fencing.  At  home  he  was 
most  domestic  ;  his  devotion  to  his  parents,  especially 
to  his  sick  mother,  was  very  beautiful."  At  this  time 
he  was  twenty-eight  years  of  age.  The  Burton  family 


s*       ttbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xa£>g  JSurton 

belonged  to  the  general  English  colony  at  Boulogne  ; 
they  were  not  intimate  with  the  creme  to  whom  the 
Miss  Arundells  belonged ;  and  as  these  young  ladies 
were  very  carefully  guarded,  it  was  some  little  time 
before  Richard  Burton  and  Isabel  Arundell  came 
together.  They  met  in  due  season ;  and  here  we 
take  up  the  thread  of  her  narrative  again. 

One  day,  when  we  were  on  the  Ramparts,  the  vision  of 
my  awakening  brain  came  towards  us.  He  was  five  feet 
eleven  inches  in  height,  very  broad,  thin,  and  muscular  : 
he  had  very  dark  hair  ;  black,  clearly  defined,  saga- 
cious eyebrows  ;  a  brown,  weather-beaten  complexion ; 
straight  Arab  features  ;  a  determined-looking  mouth  and 
chin,  nearly  covered  by  an  enormous  black  moustache. 
I  have  since  heard  a  clever  friend  say  that  "  he  had 
the  brow  of  a  god,  the  jaw  of  a  devil."  But  the  most 
remarkable  part  of  his  appearance  was  two  large,  black, 
flashing  eyes  with  long  lashes,  that  pierced  one  through 
and  through.  He  had  a  fierce,  proud,  melancholy 
expression  ;  and  when  he  smiled,  he  smiled  as  though 
it  hurt  him,  and  looked  with  impatient  contempt  at 
things  generally.  He  was  dressed  in  a  black,  short, 
shaggy  coat,  and  shouldered  a  short,  thick  stick,  as  if 
he  were  on  guard. 

He  looked  at  me  as  though  he  read  me  through 
and  through  in  a  moment,  and  started  a  little.  I  was 
completely  magnetized  ;  and  when  we  had  got  a  little 
distance  away,  I  turned  to  my  sister,  and  whispered  to 
her,  "  That  man  will  marry  me."  The  next  day  he 
was  there  again,  and  he  followed  us,  and  chalked  up, 


Boulogne :  3  fl&eet  <flDs  testing  53 

"  May  I  speak  to  you  ? "  leaving  the  chalk  on  the 
wall ;  so  I  took  up  the  chalk  and  wrote  back,  "  No  ; 
mother  will  be  angry  "  ;  and  mother  found  it,  and  was 
angry  ;  and  after  that  we  were  stricter  prisoners  than 
ever.  However,  "  Destiny  is  stronger  than  custom." 
A  mother  and  a  pretty  daughter  came  to  Boulogne 
who  happened  to  be  cousins  of  my  father's ;  they 
joined  the  majority  in  the  society  sense,  and  one  day 
we  were  allowed  to  walk  on  the  Ramparts  with  them. 
There  I  met  Richard  again,  who  (agony  !)  was  flirting 
with  the  daughter.  We  were  formally  introduced, 
and  his  name  made  me  start.  Like  a  flash  came  back 
to  me  the  prophecy  of  Hagar  Burton  which  she  had 
told  me  in  the  days  of  my  childhood  in  Stonymoore 
Wood  :  "  You  will  cross  the  sea,  and  be  in  the  same 
town  with  your  Destiny  and  know  it  not.  .  .  .  You 
will  bear  the  name  of  our  tribe^  and  be  right  proud  of 
it"  I  could  think  of  no  more  at  the  moment.  But 
I  stole  a  look  at  him,  and  met  his  gypsy  eyes— those 
eyes  which  looked  you  through,  glazed  over,  and  saw 
something  behind;  the  only  man  I  had  ever  seen, 
not  a  gypsy,  with  that  peculiarity.  And  again  I 
thrilled  through  and  through.  He  must  have  thought 
me  very  stupid,  for  I  scarcely  spoke  a  word  during  that 
brief  meeting. 

I  did  not  try  to  attract  his  attention ;  but  after 
that,  whenever  he  came  on  the  usual  promenade,  I 
would  invent  any  excuse  that  came  ready  to  take 
another  turn  to  watch  him,  if  he  were  not  looking. 
If  I  could  catch  the  sound  of  his  deep  voice,  it  seemed 
to  me  so  soft  and  sweet  that  I  remained  spellbound, 


54       Ube  iRomancc  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

as  when  I  hear  gypsy  music.  I  never  lost  an  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  him,  when  I  could  not  be  seen  ;  and 
as  I  used  to  turn  red  and  pale,  hot  and  cold,  dizzy 
and  faint,  sick  and  trembling,  and  my  knees  used 
to  nearly  give  way  under  me,  my  mother  sent  for 
the  doctor,  to  complain  that  my  digestion  was  out 
of  order,  and  that  I  got  migraines  in  the  street ;  he 
prescribed  me  a  pill,  which  I  threw  in  the  fire.  All 
girls  will  sympathize  with  me.  I  was  struck  with 
the  shaft  of  Destiny,  but  I  had  no  hope,  being  nothing 
but  an  ugly  schoolgirl,1  of  taking  the  wind  out  of 
the  sails  of  the  dashing  creature  with  whom  Richard 
was  carrying  on  a  very  serious  flirtation. 

The  only  luxury  I  indulged  in  was  a  short  but 
heartfelt  prayer  for  him  every  morning.  I  read  all 
his  books,  and  was  seriously  struck,  as  before,  by  his 
name,  when  I  came  to  the  book  on  Jats  in  Scinde. 
The  Jats  are  the  aboriginal  gypsies  in  India. 

The  more  I  got  to  know  of  Richard,  the  more  his 
strange  likeness  to  the  gypsies  struck  me.  As  I  wrote 
to  the  Gypsy  Lore  Journal  in  1891,  it  was  not  only 
his  eyes  which  showed  the  gypsy  peculiarity  ;  he  had 
the  restlessness  which  could  stay  nowhere  Jong,  nor 
own  any  spot  on  earth,  the  same  horror  of  a  corpse, 
deathbed  scenes,  and  graveyards,  or  anything  which 

1  It  is  necessary  here  to  defend  Lady  Burton  against  herself. 
She  was  certainly  not  "  ugly  "  ;  for  she  was— a  friend  tells  me  who 
knew  her  at  this  time — a  tall  and  beautiful  girl,  with  fair  brown  hair, 
blue  eyes,  classic  features,  and  a  most  vivacious  and  attractive 
manner.  Nor  could  she  correctly  be  called  a  "  schoolgirl " ;  for 
though  she  was  taking  some  finishing  lessons  in  French,  music,  etc., 
she  was  more  than  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  had  been  through  a 
London  season. 


Boulogne :  3  /iDeet  /l&g  Besting  55 

was  in  the  slightest  degree  ghoulish,  though  caring 
little  for  his  own  life,  the  same  aptitude  for  reading 
the  hand  at  a  glance.  With  many  he  would  drop 
their  hands  at  once  and  turn  away,  nor  would  anything 
induce  him  to  speak  a  word  about  them.  He  spoke 
Romany  like  the  gypsies  themselves.  Nor  did  we 
ever  enter  a  gypsy  camp  without  their  claiming  him. 
"  What  are  you  doing  with  that  black  coat  on  ?  "  they 
would  say.  "Why  don't  you  join  us  and  be  our  king?" 
Moreover,  Burton  is  one  of  the  half-dozen  distinctively 
Romany  names  ;  and  though  there  is  no  proof  whatever 
of  his  Arab  or  Romany  descent,  the  idea  that  he  had 
gypsy  blood  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  He  always 
took  a  great  interest  in  gypsy  lore,  and  prepared  a  book 
on  the  subject.  He  wrote  many  years  later  :  "  There 
is  an  important  family  of  gypsies  in  foggy  England, 
who  in  remote  times  developed  our  family  name. 
I  am  yet  on  very  friendly  terms  with  several  of  these 
strange  people  ;  nay,  a  certain  Hagar  Burton,  an  old 
fortune-teller  (divinatrice),  took  part  in  a  period  of  my 
life  which  in  no  small  degree  contributed  to  determine 
its  course." 

My  cousin  asked  Richard  to  write  something  for  me 
at  that  time  ;  he  did  so,  and  I  used  to  wear  it  next 
my  heart.  One  night  an  exception  was  made  to 
our  dull  rule  of  life.  My  cousins  gave  a  tea  party 
and  dance,  and  the  "  great  majority  "  flocked  in,  and 
there  was  Richard  like  a  star  among  rushlights  !  That 
was  a  night  of  nights  ;  he  waltzed  with  me  once, 
and  spoke  to  me  several  times,  and  I  kept  my  sash 
where  he  put  his  arm  round  my  waist  to  waltz,  and 


56       Zlbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

my  gloves,  which  his  hands  had  clasped.  I  never 
wore  them  again.  I  did  not  know  it  then,  but  the 
"little  cherub  who  sits  up  aloft"  was  not  only  occupied 
in  taking  care  of  poor  Jack,  for  I  came  in  also  for  a 
share  of  it.  I  saw  Richard  every  now  and  again  after 
that,  but  he  was  of  course  unconscious  of  my  feelings 
towards  him.  And  I  was  evidently  awfully  sorry  for 
myself,  since  I  find  recorded  the  following  moan : 

"  If  kind  Providence  had  blessed  me  with  the  man 
I  love,  what  a  different  being  I  might  be  !  Fate  has 
used  me  hardly,  with  my  proud,  sensitive  nature  to 
rough  the  world  and  its  sharp  edges,  alone  and 
unprotected  except  by  hard  and  peremptory  rules." 

So  I  thought  then  ;  but  I  have  often  blessed  those 
rules  since.  A  woman  may  have  known  the  illusions 
of  Jove,  but  never  have  met  an  object  worth  all  her 
heart.  Sometimes  we  feel  a  want  of  love,  and  a  want 
to  love  with  all  our  energies.  There  is  no  man  capable 
of  receiving  this  at  the  time,  and  we  accept  the  love  of 
others  as  a  makeshift,  an  apology,  to  draw  our  intention 
from  the  painful  feeling,  and  try  to  fancy  it  is  love. 
How  much  in  this  there  is  to  fear !  A  girl  should  be 
free  and  happy  in  real  and  legitimate  love.  One  who 
is  passionate  and  capable  of  suffering  fears  to  risk  her 
heart  on  any  man.  Happy  is  she  who  meets  at  her 
first  start  the  man  who  is  to  guide  her  for  life,  whom 
she  is  always  to  love.  Some  women  grow  fastidious  in 
solitude,  and  find  it  harder  to  be  mated  than  married. 
Those  who  fear  and  respect  the  men  they  love,  those 
whose  judgment  and  sense  confirm  their  affection,  are 
lucky.  Every  one  has  some  mysterious  and  singular 


Boulogne :  3  /IDeet  /IDs  testing  57 

idea  respecting  his  destiny.  I  asked  myself  then  if  I 
would  sacrifice  anything  and  everything  for  Richard, 
and  the  only  thing  that  I  found  I  could  not  sacrifice 
for  him  would  be  God ;  for  I  thought  I  would  as  soon, 
were  I  a  man,  forsake  my  post,  when  the  tide  of  battle 
pressed  hardest  against  it,  and  go  over  to  the  enemy, 
as  renounce  my  God.  So  having  sifted  my  unfortunate 
case,  I  soon  decided  on  a  plan  of  action.  I  could  not 
push  myself  forward  or  attract  his  notice.  It  would 
be  unmaidenly — unworthy.  I  shuddered  at  the  lonely 
and  dreary  path  I  was  taking ;  but  I  knew  that  no 
advantage  gained  by  unworthy  means  could  be  lasting 
or  solid  ;  besides,  my  conscience  was  tender,  and  I 
knew  that  the  greatest  pleasure  unlawfully  obtained 
would  eventually  become  bitter,  for  there  can  be  no 
greater  pain  than  to  despise  oneself  or  the  one  we  love. 
So  I  suffered  much  and  long  ;  and  the  name  of  the 
tribe,  as  Hagar  Burton  foretold,  caused  me  many  a 
sorrowful  and  humiliating  hour  ;  but  I  rose  superior  at 
last.  They  say  that  often,  when  we  think  our  hopes 
are  annihilated,  God  is  granting  us  some  extraordinary 
favour.  It  is  said,  "  It  is  easy  to  image  the  happiness 
of  some  particular  condition,  until  we  can  be  content 
with  no  other  "  ;  but  there  is  no  condition  whatever 
under  which  a  certain  degree  of  happiness  may  not 
be  attained  by  those  who  are  inclined  to  be  happy. 
Courage  consists,  not  in  hazarding  without  fear,  but 
in  being  resolutely  minded  in  a  just  cause. 

Marvel  not  at  thy  life ;  patience  shall  see 
The  perfect  work  of  wisdom  to  her  given  ; 
Hold  fast  thy  soul  through  this  high  mystery, 
And  it  shall  lead  thee  to  the  gates  of  heaven. 


ss       ttbe  -Romance  ot  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

The  days  at  Boulogne  went  slowly  by.  We  used  to 
join  walking  or  picnic  parties  in  summer,  and  generally 
have  one  of  our  pleasant  big  teas  in  the  evening.  I 
joined  in  such  society  as  there  was  in  moderation,  and 
I  became  very  serious.  The  last  summer  we  had 
many  friends  staying  with  us  ;  the  house  was  quite 
like  a  hotel.  We  much  longed  to  go  to  Paris  ;  but 
in  the  winter  poor  little  baby  died,  and  mother  had 
no  spirits  for  anything.  This  last  winter  (1851-52), 
during  the  time  of  the  coup  d'etat^  there  were  eighteen 
hundred  soldiers  billeted  on  Boulogne  ;  and  the  excite- 
ment was  great,  crowds  of  people  were  rushing  about 
to  hear  the  news,  and  vans  full  of  prisoners  passing 
by.  They  were  very  violent  against  the  English  too  ; 
we  had  our  windows  broken  occasionally,  and  our  pet 
dog  was  killed.  Carolina,  the  Poissarde  queen,  told 
us  that  if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst  she  should  send 
us  across  to  England  in  her  husband's  fishing-smack. 
Boulogne  was  a  droll  place  ;  there  was  always  either 
something  joyous,  a  fete,  or  some  scandal  or  horror 
going  on.  It  was  a  place  of  passage,  constant  change 
of  people,  and  invariably  there  was  some  excitement 
about  something  or  other. 

Our  prescribed  two  years  were  up  at  last,  and  we  all 
agreed  that  anything  in  London  would  be  preferable 
to  Boulogne.  We  began  quietly  to  pack  up,  pay  our 
debts,  and  make  our  adieux.  We  were  sorry  to  leave 
our  little  circle  ;  they  were  also  sorry  to  part  from  us  ; 
and  the  tradespeople  and  servants  seemed  conscious  that 
they  were  about  to  lose  in  a  short  while  some  honest 
and  safe-paying  people — not  too  frequent  in  Boulogne 


3Bouloone :  5  /iDeet  /IDs  2>estin^  59 

— and  were  loud  in  their  regrets.  I  had  many  regrets 
in  leaving,  but  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  going 
home,  and  impatient  to  be  relieved  of  the  restraint  I 
was  obliged  to  impose  on  myself  about  Richard.  Yet 
at  the  same  time  I  dreaded  leaving  his  vicinity.  I  was 
sorely  sorry,  yet  glad.  All  the  old  haunts  I  visited 
for  the  last  time.  There  were  kind  friends  to  wish 
good-bye.  I  received  my  last  communion  in  the  little 
chapel  of  Our  Lady  in  the  College,  where  I  had  so 
often  knelt  and  prayed  for  Richard,  and  for  strength 
to  bear  my  sorrow  as  a  trial  from  the  hand  of  God, 
as  doubtless  it  was  for  my  good,  only  I  could  not  see 
it.  When  one  is  young,  it  is  hard  to  pine  for  some- 
thing, and  at  the  same  time  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 
I  always  prayed  Richard  might  be  mine  if  God  willed 
it,  and  if  it  was  for  his  happiness. 

I  said  good-bye  to  Carolina,  the  queen  of  the  fisher- 
women  ;  she  reminded  me  strangely  of  Hagar  Burton, 
my  gypsy.  I  wondered  how  Hagar  would  tell  her 
prophecies  now  ?  "  Chance  or  not,"  I  thought,  "  they 
are  strange  ;  and  if  ever  I  return  to  my  home,  I  will 
revisit  Stonymoore  Wood,  though  now  alone  ;  for  my 
shaggy  Sikh  is  dead,  my  pony  gone,  my  gypsy  camp 
dispersed,  my  light  heart  no  longer  light,  no  longer 
mine."  I  would  give  worlds  to  sit  again  on  the 
mossy  bank  round  the  gypsy  fire,  to  hear  that  little 
tale  as  before,  and  be  called  "  Daisy,"  and  hear  the 
prophecy  of  Hagar  that  I  should  take  the  name  of  the 
tribe.  I  listened  lightly  then  ;  but  now  that  the  name 
had  become  so  dear  I  attached  much  deeper  meaning 
to  it. 


60       abe  IRomancc  ot  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 


At  last  the  day  was  fixed  that  we  were  to  leave 
Boulogne,  May  9,  1852,  and  I  was  sorely  exercised 
in  my  mind  as  to  whether  or  no  I  should  say  good- 
bye to  Richard  ;  but  I  said  to  myself,  "  When  we  leave 
this  place,  he  will  go  one  way  in  life,  and  I  another  ; 
and  who  knows  if  we  may  ever  meet  again  ?  "  To 
see  him  would  be  only  to  give  myself  more  pain,  and 
therefore  I  did  not. 

We  walked  down  to  the  steamer  an  hour  or  two 
before  sailing-time,  which  would  be  two  in  the  morning. 
It  was  midnight  ;  the  band  was  playing,  and  the 
steamer  was  alongside,  opposite  the  Folkestone  Hotel. 
It  was  a  beautiful  night,  so  all  our  friends  collected 
to  see  us  off,  and  we  walked  up  and  down,  and  had 
chairs  to  remain  near  the  band.  When  we  sailed,  my 
people  went  down  to  their  berths  ;  but  I  sat  near  the 
wheel,  to  watch  the  town  as  long  as  I  could  see  the 
lights,  for  after  all  it  contained  all  I  wanted,  and  who 
I  thought  I  should  never  see  more.  I  was  sad  at 
heart  ;  but  I  was  proud  of  the  way  in  which  I  had 
behaved,  and  I  could  now  rest  after  my  long  and 
weary  struggle,  suffering,  patient,  and  purified  ;  and 
though  I  would  rather  have  had  love  and  happiness, 
I  felt  that  I  was  as  gold  tried  in  the  fire.  It  is  no 
little  thing  for  a  girl  to  be  able  to  command  herself, 
to  respect  herself,  and  to  be  able  to  crush  every  petty 
feeling. 

When  I  could  see  no  more  of  Boulogne,  I  wrapped 
a  cloak  round  me,  and  jumped  into  the  lifeboat  lashed 
to  the  side,  and  I  mused  on  the  two  past  years  I  had 
been  away  from  England,  all  I  had  gone  through,  and  all 


Boulogne:  3  /I&eet  /Ifos  S>estins  6t 

the  changes,  and  especially  how  changed  I  was  myself; 
I  felt  a  sort  of  satisfaction,  and  I  mused  on  how  much 
of  my  destiny  had  been  fulfilled.  Old  Captain  Tune, 
who  had  become  quite  a  friend  of  ours  at  Boulogne, 
came  up,  and  wanted  me  to  go  below.  I  knew  him 
well,  and  was  in  the  habit  of  joking  with  him,  and  I 
told  him  to  go  below  himself,  and  I  would  take  care  of 
the  ship  ;  so  instead  he  amused  me  by  telling  me  stories 
and  asking  me  riddles.  The  moon  went  down,  and 
the  stars  faded,  and  I  slept  well ;  and  when  I  awoke 
the  star  of  my  destiny,  my  pet  morning  star,  was 
shining  bright  and  clear,  just  "  like  a  diamond  drop 
over  the  sea."  I  awoke,  hearing  old  Tune  say,  "  What 
a  jolly  sailor's  wife  she  would  make  !  She  never  changes 
colour."  We  lurched  terribly.  I  jumped  up  as  hungry 
as  a  hunter,  and  begged  him  to  give  me  some  food,  as 
it  wanted  four  hours  to  breakfast ;  so  he  took  me  down 
to  his  cabin,  and  gave  me  some  hot  chops  and  bread- 
and-butter,  and  said  he  would  rather  keep  me  for  a 
week  than  a  fortnight.  It  blew  freshly.  I  cannot 
describe  my  sensations  when  I  saw  the  dear  old  white 
cliffs  of  England  again,  though  I  had  only  been  away 
two  years,  and  so  near  home.  The  tears  came  into 
my  eyes,  and  my  heart  bounded  with  joy,  and  I  felt 
great  sympathy  with  all  exiled  soldiers  and  sailors,  and 
wondered  what  face  we  should  see  first.  Foreigners 
do  not  seem  to  have  that  peculiar  sensation  about 
home,  or  talk  of  their  country  as  we  do  of  ours  ;  for 
I  know  of  no  feeling  like  setting  one's  foot  on  English 
ground  again  after  a  long  absence. 


CHAPTER  V 

FOUR   YEARS  OF  HOPE  DEFERRED 

(1852—1856) 

I  was  fancy  free  and  unkncw  I  love, 
But  I  fell  in  love  and  in  madness  fell ; 
I  write  you  with  tears  of  eyes  so  belike, 
They  explain  my  love,  come  my  heart  to  quell. 
ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "  Arabian  Nights"). 

ON  leaving  Boulogne,  Isabel  saw  Richard  Burton 
no  more  for  four  years,  and  only  heard  of 
him  now  and  again  from  others  or  through  the 
newspapers.  She  went  back  to  London  with  her 
people,  and  outwardly  took  up  life  and  society  again 
much  where  she  had  left  it  two  years  before.  But 
inwardly  things  were  very  different.  She  had  gone  to 
Boulogne  an  unformed  girl  ;  she  had  left  it  a  loving 
woman.  Her  ideal  had  taken  form  and  shape ;  she 
had  met  the  only  man  in  all  the  world  whom  she  could 
love,  the  man  to  whom  she  had  been  "  destined  from 
the  beginning,"  and  her  love  for  him  henceforth 
became,  next  to  her  religion,  the  motive  power  of  her 
actions  and  the  guiding  principle  of  her  life.  All 

her  youth,   until   she  met  him,  she   had  yearned  for 

62 


four  HJears  of  1bope  Beferreo  63 

something,  she  hardly  knew  what.  That  something 
had  come  to  her,  sweeter  than  all  her  young  imaginings, 
glorifying  her  life  and  flooding  her  soul  with  radiance. 
And  after  the  light  there  had  come  the  darkness ;  after 
the  joy  there  had  come  keenest  pain  ;  for  it  seemed 
that  her  love  was  given  to  one  who  did  not  return 
it — nay,  more,  who  was  all  unconscious  of  it.  But  this 
did  not  hinder  her  devotion,  though  her  maidenly 
reserve  checked  its  outward  expression.  She  had  met 
her  other  self  in  Richard  Burton.  He  was  her  affinity. 
A  creature  of  impulse  and  emotion,  there  was  a  certain 
vein  of  thought  in  her  temperament  which  responded 
to  the  recklessness  in  his  own.  She  could  no  more 
stifle  her  love  for  him  than  she  could  stifle  her  nature, 
for  the  love  she  bore  him  was  part  of  her  nature,  part 
of  herself. 

Meanwhile  she  and  her  sister  Blanche,  the  sister 
next  to  her  in  age,  had  to  take  the  place  in  society 
suited  to  young  ladies  of  their  position.  Their 
father,  Mr.  Henry  Raymond  Arundell,  though  in 
comfortable  circumstances,  was  not  a  wealthy  man  ; 
but  in  those  days  money  was  not  the  passport  to 
society,  and  the  Miss  Arundells  belonged  by  birth 
to  the  most  exclusive  aristocracy  of  Europe,  the 
Catholic  nobility  of  England,  an  aristocracy  which  has 
no  parallel,  unless  it  be  found  in  the  old  Legitimist 
families  of  France,  the  society  of  the  Faubourg 
St.  Germain.  But  this  society,  though  undoubtedly 
exclusive,  was  also  undoubtedly  tiresome  to  the 
impetuous  spirit  of  Isabel,  who  chafed  at  the  restraints 
by  which  she  was  surrounded.  She  loved  liberty  ; 


64       Ubc  IRomancc  of  Isabel  Xa&s  JBurton 

her  soaring  spirit  beat  its  wings  against  the  prison- 
bars  of  custom  and  convention  ;  she  was  always 
yearning  for  a  wider  field.  Deep  down  in  her  heart 
was  hidden  the  secret  of  her  untold  love,  and  this 
robbed  the  zest  from  the  pleasure  she  might  otherwise 
have  taken  in  society.  Much  of  her  time  was  spent 
in  confiding  to  her  diary  her  thoughts  about  Richard, 
and  in  gleaning  together  and  treasuring  in  her  memory 
every  scrap  of  news  she  could  gather  concerning  him. 
At  the  same  time  she  was  not  idle,  nor  did  she  pine 
outwardly  after  the  approved  manner  of  love-sick 
maidens.  As  the  eldest  daughter  of  a  large  family 
she  had  plenty  to  do  in  the  way  of  home  duties,  and 
it  was  not  in  her  nature  to  shirk  any  work  which  came 
in  her  way,  but  to  do  it  with  all  her  might. 

The  Miss  Arundells  had  no  lack  of  admirers,  and 
more  than  once  Isabel  refused  or  discouraged  advan- 
tageous offers  of  marriage,  much  to  the  perplexity  of 
her  mother,  who  naturally  wished  her  daughters  to 
make  good  marriages  ;  that  is  to  say,  to  marry  men 
of  the  same  religion  as  themselves,  and  in  the  same 
world — men  who  would  make  them  good  husbands  in 
every  sense  of  the  word.  But  Isabel,  who  was  then 
twenty-one  years  of  age,  had  a  strong  will  of  her  own, 
and  very  decided  views  on  the  subject  of  marriage, 
and  she  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  all  pleadings.  Besides, 
was  she  not  guarded  by  the  talisman  of  a  hidden 
and  sacred  love  ?  In  her  diary  at  this  time  she 
writes: 

"  They  say  it  is  time  I  married  (perhaps  it  is)  ;  but 
it  is  never  time  to  marry  any  man  one  does  not  love, 


jfour  l^ears  of  Ibope  Deferred  65 

because  such  a  deed  can  never  be  undone.  Richard 
may  be  a  delusion  of  my  brain.  But  how  dull  is  reality  ! 
What  a  curse  is  a  heart !  With  all  to  make  me 
happy  I  pine  and  hanker  for  him,  my  other  half,  to 
fill  this  void,  for  I  feel  as  if  I  were  not  complete.  Is 
it  wrong  to  want  some  one  to  love  more  than  one's 
father  and  mother — one  on  whom  to  lavish  one's  best 
feelings  ?  What  will  my  life  be  alone  ?  I  cannot  marry 
any  of  the  insignificant  beings  round  me.  Where  are 
all  those  men  who  inspired  the  grandes  passions  of 
bygone  days  ?  Is  the  race  extinct  ?  Is  Richard  the 
last  of  them?  Even  so,  is  he  for  me?  They  point 
out  the  matches  I  might  make  if  I  took  the  trouble, 
but  the  trouble  I  will  not  take.  I  have  no  vocation 
to  be  a  nun.  I  do  not  consider  myself  good  enough 
to  offer  to  God.  God  created  me  with  a  warm  heart, 
a  vivid  imagination,  and  strong  passions ;  God  has 
given  me  food  for  hunger,  drink  for  thirst,  but  no 
companion  for  my  loneliness  of  heart.  If  I  could 
only  be  sure  of  dying  at  forty,  and  until  then  preserve 
youth,  health,  spirits,  and  good  looks,  I  should  be 
more  cheerful  to  remain  as  I  am.  I  cannot  separate 
myself  from  all  thought  of  Richard.  Neither  do  I 
expect  God  to  work  a  miracle  to  make  me  happy. 
To  me  there  are  three  kinds  of  marriage :  first, 
worldly  ambition  ;  that  is,  marriage  for  fortune,  title, 
estates,  society  ;  secondly,  love  ;  that  is,  the  usual  pig 
and  cottage  ;  thirdly,  life,  which  is  my  ideal  of  being 
a  companion  and  wife,  a  life  of  travel,  adventure,  and 
danger,  seeing  and  learning,  with  love  to  glorify  it ; 
that  is  what  I  seek.  L 'amour  n'y  manquerait  pas ! 
VOL.  i.  5 


66       TTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xabg  Burton 

"  A  sailor  leaves  his  wife  for  years,  and  is  supposed 
to  be  unfaithful  to  her  by  necessity.  The  typical 
sportsman  breakfasts  and  goes  out,  comes  home  to 
dinner,  falls  asleep  over  his  port,  tumbles  into  bed, 
and  snores  till  morning.  An  idle  and  independent 
man  who  lives  in  society  is  often  a  roue,  a  gambler, 
or  drunkard,  whose  wife  is  deserted  for  a  danseuse. 

"  One  always  pictures  the  *  proper  man  to  be  a 
rich,  fat,  mild  lordling,  living  on  his  estate,  whence, 
as  his  lady,  one  might  rise  to  be  a  leader  of  Almack's. 
But  I  am  much  mistaken  if  I  do  not  deserve  a  better 
fate.  I  could  not  live  like  a  vegetable  in  the  country. 
I  cannot  picture  myself  in  a  white  apron,  with  a 
bunch  of  keys,  scolding  my  maids,  counting  eggs 
and  butter,  with  a  good  and  portly  husband  (I  detest 
fat  men !)  with  a  broad-brimmed  hat  and  a  large 
stomach.  And  I  should  not  like  to  marry  a  country 
squire,  nor  a  doctor,  nor  a  lawyer  (I  hear  the  parch- 
ments crackle  now),  nor  a  parson,  nor  a  clerk  in  a 
London  office.  God  help  me  !  A  dry  crust,  privations, 
pain,  danger  for  him  I  love  would  be  better.  Let  me 
go  with  the  husband  of  my  choice  to  battle,  nurse  him 
in  his  tent,  follow  him  under  the  fire  of  ten  thousand 
muskets.  I  would  be  his  companion  through  hardship 
and  trouble,  nurse  him  if  wounded,  work  for  him  in 
his  tent,  prepare  his  meals  when  faint,  his  bed  when 
weary,  and  be  his  guardian  angel  of  comfort — a  felicity 
too  exquisite  for  words !  There  is  something  in  some 
women  that  seems  born  for  the  knapsack.  How  many 
great  thoughts  are  buried  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
and  splendid  positions  exist  that  are  barren  of  them — 


3four  J^ears  of  1bope  Beferteo  67 

thoughts  that  are  stifled  from  a  feeling  that  they  are 
too  bold  to  be  indulged  in  !  I  thank  God  for  the 
blessed  gift  of  imagination,  though  it  may  be  a  source 
of  pain.  It  counteracts  the  monotony  of  life.  One 
cannot  easily  quit  a  cherished  illusion,  though  it  disgusts 
one  with  ordinary  life.  Who  has  ever  been  so  happy 
in  reality  as  in  imagination  ?  And  how  unblessed  are 
those  who  have  no  imagination,  unless  they  obtain  their 
wishes  in  reality  !  I  do  not  obtain,  so  I  seek  them  in 
illusion.  Sometimes  I  think  I  am  not  half  grateful 
enough  to  my  parents,  I  do  not  half  enough  for 
them,  considering  what  they  are  to  me.  Although  we 
are  not  wealthy,  what  do  I  lack,  and  what  kindness  do 
I  not  receive  ?  Yet  I  seem  in  a  hurry  to  leave  them. 
There  is  nothing  I  would  not  do  to  add  to  their  com- 
fort, and  it  would  grieve  me  to  the  heart  to  forsake 
them ;  and  yet  if  I  knew  for  certain  that  I  should  never 
have  my  wish,  I  should  repine  sadly.  I  love  a  good 
daughter,  and  a  good  daughter  makes  a  good  wife. 
How  can  I  reconcile  all  these  things  in  my  mind  ?  I 
am  miserable,  afraid  to  hope,  and  yet  I  dare  not  despair 
when  I  look  at  the  state  of  my  heart.  But  one  side  is 
so  heavy  as  nearly  to  sink  the  other,  and  thus  my  beaux 
jours  will  pass  away,  and  my  Ideal  Lover  will  not 
then  think  me  worth  his  while.  Shall  I  never  be  at 
rest  with  him  to  love  and  understand  me,  to  tell 
every  thought  and  feeling,  in  far  different  scenes  from 
these — under  canvas  before  Rangoon — anywhere  in 
Nature  ? 

"  I  would  have  every  woman  marry ;  not  merely  liking 
a  man  well  enough  to  accept  him  for  a  husband,  as 


68       zrbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

some  of  our  mothers  teach  us,  and  so  cause  many 
unhappy  marriages,  but  loving  him  so  holily  that, 
wedded  or  not  wedded,  she  feels  she  is  his  wife  at  heart. 
But  perfect  love,  like  perfect  beauty,  is  rare.  I  would 
have  her  so  loyal,  that,  though  she  sees  all  his  little 
faults  herself,  she  takes  care  no  one  else  sees  them  ;  yet 
she  would  as  soon  think  of  loving  him  less  for  them 
as  ceasing  to  look  up  to  heaven  because  there  were  a 
few  clouds  in  the  sky.  I  would  have  her  so  true,  so 
fond,  that  she  needs  neither  to  burthen  him  with  her 
love  nor  vex  him  with  her  constancy,  since  both  are 
self-existent,  and  entirely  independent  of  anything  he 
gives  or  takes  away.  Thus  she  will  not  marry  him 
for  liking,  esteem,  gratitude  for  his  love,  but  from  the 
fulness  of  her  own  love.  If  Richard  and  I  never 
marry,  God  will  cause  us  to  meet  in  the  next  world  ; 
we  cannot  be  parted  ;  we  belong  to  one  another. 
Despite  all  I  have  seen  of  false,  foolish,  weak  attach- 
ments, unholy  marriages,  the  after-life  of  which  is 
rendered  unholier  still  by  struggling  against  the  inevit- 
able, still  I  believe  in  the  one  true  love  that  binds 
a  woman's  heart  faithful  to  one  man  in  this  life,  and, 
God  grant  it,  in  the  next.  All  this  I  am  and  could 
be  for  one  man.  But  how  worthless  should  I  be  to 
any  other  man  but  Richard  Burton !  I  should  love 
Richard's  wild,  roving,  vagabond  life  ;  and  as  I  am 
young,  strong,  and  hardy,  with  good  nerves,  and  no  fine 
notions,  I  should  be  just  the  girl  for  him  ;  I  could 
never  love  any  one  who  was  not  daring  and  spirited. 
I  always  feel  inclined  to  treat  the  generality  of  men 
just  like  my  own  sex.  I  am  sure  I  am  not  born  for 


3fout  JUears  of  1bope  2>eferreo 


a  jog-trot  life  ;  I  am  too  restless  and  romantic.  I 
believe  my  sister  and  I  have  now  as  much  excitement 
and  change  as  most  girls,  and  yet  I  find  everything 
slow.  I  long  to  rush  round  the  world  in  an  express  ; 
I  feel  as  if  I  shall  go  mad  if  I  remain  at  home.  Now 
with  a  soldier  of  fortune,  and  a  soldier  at  heart,  one 
would  go  everywhere,  and  lead  a  life  worth  living. 
What  others  dare  I  can  dare.  And  why  should  I 
not?  I  feel  that  we  women  simply  are  born,  marry, 
and  die.  Who  misses  us  ?  Why  should  we  not  have 
some  useful,  active  life?  Why,  with  spirits,  brains, 
and  energies,  are  women  to  exist  upon  worsted  work 
and  household  accounts  ?  It  makes  me  sick,  and  I 

will  not  do  it." 

• 

In  the  meantime  Richard  Burton,  all  unconscious 
of  the  love  he  had  inspired,  had  gone  on  his  famous 
pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  As  we  have  seen,  he  was  home 
from  India  on  a  long  furlough  ;  but  his  active  mind 
revolted  against  the  tame  life  he  was  leading,  and 
craved  for  adventure  and  excitement.  He  was  not 
of  the  stuff  to  play  the  part  of  petit  maitre  in  the 
second-rate  society  of  Boulogne.  So  he  determined 
to  carry  out  his  long-cherished  project  of  studying 
the  "inner  life  of  Moslem,"  a  task  for  which  he 
possessed  unique  qualifications.  Therefore,  soon  after 
the  Arundells  had  left  Boulogne,  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  go  to  Mecca.  He  obtained  a  year's  further  leave 
to  carry  out  his  daring  project.  In  1853  he  left 
England  disguised  as  a  Persian  Mirza,  a  disguise 
which  he  assumed  with  so  much  success  that,  when 


70       ttbe  "Romance  ot  Ssabcl  Xaot>  J3ucton 

he  landed  at  Alexandria,  he  was  recognized  and  blessed 
as  a  true  Moslem  by  the  native  population.  From 
Alexandria  he  went  to  Cairo  disguised  as  a  dervish, 
and  lived  there  some  months  as  a  native.  Thence  he 
travelled  to  Suez,  and  crossed  in  an  open  boat  with  a 
party  of  Arab  pilgrims  to  Yambu.  The  rest  of  his 
dare-devil  adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes — how 
he  attached  himself  to  the  Damascus  caravan  and 
journeyed  with  the  pilgrims  to  Mecca  in  spite  of  the 
fiery  heat  and  the  scorching  sands,  how  he  braved 
many  dangers  and  the  constant  dread  of  "  detection  " 
— is  written  by  him  in  his  Pilgrimage  to  Mecca  and  El 
Medinah,  and  is  touched  upon  again  in  Lady  Burton's 
Life  of  her  husband.  The  story  needs  no  re-telling 
here.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  Burton  was  the  first  man 
not  a  Mussulman  who  penetrated  to  the  innermost 
sanctuary  of  Moslem,  and  saw  the  shrine  where  the 
coffin  of  Mohammed  swings  between  heaven  and  earth. 
He  did  the  circumambulation  at  the  Harem  ;  he  was 
admitted  to  the  house  of  our  Lord ;  he  went  to  the 
well  Zemzem,  the  holy  water  of  Mecca;  he  visited 
Ka'abah,  the  holy  grail  of  the  Moslems,  and  kissed  the 
famous  black  stone  ;  he  spent  the  night  in  the  Mosque  ; 
and  he  journeyed  to  Arafat  and  saw  the  reputed  tomb 
of  Adam.  He  was  not  a  man  to  do  things  by  halves, 
and  he  inspected  Mecca  thoroughly,  absolutely  living 
the  life  of  the  Mussulman,  adopting  the  manners, 
eating  the  food,  wearing  the  clothes,  conforming  to 
the  ritual,  joining  in  the  prayers  and  sacrifices,  and 
speaking  the  language.  He  did  all  this,  literally 
carrying  his  life  in  his  hand,  for  at  any  moment  he 


5URTOX    ON    HIS    PILGRIMAGE    TO    MECCA. 


[Page  70. 


jfour  32ears  of  UDope  2>eterreD  n 

might  have  been  detected — one  false  step,  one  hasty 
word,  one  prayer  unsaid,  one  trifling  custom  of  the 
shibboleth  omitted,  and  the  dog  of  an  infidel  who  had 
dared  to  profane  the  sanctuary  of  Mecca  and  Medinah 
would  have  been  found  out,  and  his  bones  would 
have  whitened  the  desert  sand.  Quite  apart  from 
the  physical  fatigue,  the  mental  strain  must  have  been 
acute.  But  Burton  survived  it  all,  and  departed  from 
Mecca  as  he  came,  slowly  wending  his  way  with  a  cara- 
van across  the  desert  to  Jeddah,  whence  he  returned  up 
the  Red  Sea  to  Egypt.  There  he  sojourned  for  a  space  ; 
but  his  leave  being  up,  he  returned  to  Bombay. 

The  news  of  his  marvellous  pilgrimage  was  soon 
noised  abroad,  and  travelled  home  ;  all  sorts  of  rumours 
flew  about,  though  it  was  not  until  the  following  year 
that  his  book,  giving  a  full  and  detailed  account  of  his 
visit  to  Mecca,  came  out.  Burton's  name  was  on  the 
lips  of  many.  But  he  was  in  India,  and  did  not  come 
home  to  reap  the  reward  of  his  daring,  nor  did  he 
know  that  one  faithful  heart  was  full  of  joy  and 
thanksgiving  at  his  safety  and  pride  at  his  renown. 
He  did  not  know  that  the  "  little  girl "  he  had  met 
now  and  again  casually  at  Boulogne  was  thinking  of 
him  every  hour  of  the  day,  dreaming  of  him  every 
night,  praying  every  morning  and  evening  and  at  the 
altar  of  her  Lord,  with  all  the  fervour  of  her  pure  soul, 
that  God  would  keep  him  now  and  always,  and  bring 
him  back  safe  and  sound,  and  in  His  own  good  time 
teach  him  to  love  her.  He  did  not  know.  How 
could  he?  He  had  not  yet  sounded  the  height,  depth, 
and  breadth  of  a  woman's  love.  ^Lnd  yet, J  who  shall 


72       Ztbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaoy  Burton 

say  that  her  supplications  were  unheeded  before  the 
throne  of  God  ?  Who  shall  say  that  it  was  not 
Isabel's  prayers,  quite  as  much  as  Richard  Burton's 
skill  and  daring,  which  shielded  him  from  danger 
and  detection  and  carried  him  safe  through  all  ? 

In  Isabel's  diary  at  this  time  there  occurs  the  fol- 
lowing note : 

"  Richard  has  just  come  back  with  flying  colours 
from  Mecca  ;  but  instead  of  coming  home,  he  has  gone 
to  Bombay  to  rejoin  his  regiment.  I  glory  in  his  glory. 
God  be  thanked  !  " 

Then  a  sense  of  desolation  and  hopelessness  sweeps 
over  her  soul,  for  she  writes  : 

"  But  I  am  alone  and  unloved.  Love  can  illumine 
the  dark  roof  of  poverty,  and  can  lighten  the  fetters 
of  a  slave  ;  the  most  miserable  position  of  humanity 
is  tolerable  with  its  support,  and  the  most  splendid 
irksome  without  its  inspiration.  Whatever  harsher 
feelings  life  may  develop,  there  is  no  one  whose  brow 
will  not  grow  pensive  at  some  tender  reminiscence, 
whose  heart  will  not  be  touched.  Oh  if  I  could  but 
go  through  life  trusting  one  faithful  heart  and  pressing 
one  dear  hand  !  Is  there  no  hope  for  me  ?  I  am  so 
full  of  faith.  Is  there  no  pity  for  so  much  love  ?  It 
makes  my  heart  ache,  this  future  of  desolation  and 
distress  ;  it  ever  flits  like  the  thought  of  death  before 
my  eyes.  There  is  no  more  joy  for  me  ;  the  lustre 
of  life  is  gone.  How  swiftly  my  sorrow  followed  my 
joy !  I  can  laugh,  dance,  and  sing  as  others  do,  but 
there  is  a  dull  gnawing  always  at  my  heart  that  wearies 
me.  There  is  an  end  of  love  for  me,  and  of  all  the 


jfour  l^ears  of  Ifoope  Deferred  73 

bright  hopes  that  make  the  lives  of  other  girls  happy 
and  warm  and  pleasant." 

Burton  did  not  stay  long  at  Bombay  after  he  rejoined 
his  regiment.  He  was  not  popular  in  it,  and  he  dis- 
liked the  routine.  Something  of  the  old  prejudice 
against  him  in  certain  quarters  was  revived.  The 
East  India  Company,  in  whose  service  he  was,  had 
longed  wished  to  explore  Harar  in  Somaliland, 
Abyssinia;  but  it  was  inhabited  by  a  very  wild  and 
savage  people,  and  no  white  man  had  ever  dared  to 
enter  it.  So  it  was  just  the  place  for  Richard  Burton, 
and  he  persuaded  the  Governor  of  Bombay  to  sanction 
an  expedition  to  Harar  ;  and  with  three  companions, 
Lieutenant  Herne,  Lieutenant  Stroyan,  and  Lieutenant 
Speke,  he  started  for  Harar. 

From  her  watch-tower  afar  off,  Isabel,  whose  ceaseless 
love  followed  him  night  and  day,  notes  : 

"And  now  Richard  has  gone  to  Harar,  a  deadly 
expedition  or  a  most  dangerous  one,  and  I  am  full  of 
sad  forebodings.  Will  he  never  come  home  ?  How 
strange  it  all  is,  and  how  I  still  trust  in  Fate  !  The 
Crimean  War  is  declared,  and  troops  begin  to  go  out." 

When  Burton's  little  expedition  arrived  at  Aden 
en  route  for  Harar,  the  four  men  who  composed  it 
parted  and  resolved  to  enter  Harar  by  different  ways. 
Speke  failed  ;  Herne  and  Stroyan  succeeded.  Burton 
reserved  for  himself  the  post  of  danger.  Harar  was 
as  difficult  to  enter  as  Mecca;  there  was  a  tradition 
there  that  when  the  first  white  man  entered  the  city 
Harar  would  fall.  Nevertheless,  after  a  journey 
of  four  months  through  savage  tribes  and  the  desert, 


74       TTbc  IRomancc  of  Isabel  Zaog  Burton 

Burton  entered  it  disguised  as  an  Arab  merchant,  and 
stayed  there  ten  days.1  He  returned  to  Aden.  Five 
weeks  later  he  got  up  a  new  expedition  to  Harar  on 
a  much  larger  scale,  with  which  he  wanted  to  pro- 
ceed Nilewards.  The  expedition  sailed  for  Berberah. 
Arriving  there,  the  four  leaders,  Burton,  Speke,  Stroyan, 
and  Herne,  went  ashore  and  pitched  their  tent,  leaving 
the  others  on  board.  At  night  they  were  surprised  by 
more  than  three  hundred  Somali,  and  after  desperate 
fighting  cut  their  way  back  to  the  boat.  Stroyan 
was  killed,  Herne  untouched,  and  Speke  and  Burton 
wounded. 

A  little  later  the  following  note  occurs  in  Isabel's 
diary : 

"We  got  the  news  of  Richard's  magnificent  ride 
to  Harar,  of  his  staying  ten  days  in  Harar,  of  his 
wonderful  ride  back,  his  most  daring  expedition,  and 
then  we  heard  of  the  dreadful  attack  by  the  natives 
in  his  tent,  and  how  Stroyan  was  killed,  Herne  un- 
touched, Speke  with  eleven  wounds,  and  Richard  with 
a  lance  through  his  jaw.  They  escaped  in  a  native 
dhow  to  Aden,  and  it  was  doubtful  whether  Richard 
would  recover.  Doubtless  this  is  the  danger  alluded 
to  by  the  clairvoyant,  and  the  cause  of  my  horrible 
dreams  concerning  him  about  the  time  it  happened. 
I  hope  to  Heaven  he  will  not  go  back  !  How  can  I 
be  grateful  enough  for  his  escape  !  " 

Burton  did  not  go  back.  He  was  so  badly  wounded 
that  he  had  to  return  to  England  on  sick  leave,  and 
sorely  discomfited.  Here  his  wounds  soon  healed,  and 
J  Vide  Burton's  First  Footsteps  in  Africa. 


jfouc  l^ears  of  1bope  Befertefc  75 

he  regained  his  health.  He  read  an  account  of  his 
journey  to  Harar  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society; 
but  the  paper  attracted  little  or  no  attention,  one  reason 
being  that  the  public  interest  was  at  that  time  absorbed 
in  the  Crimean  War.  Strange  to  say,  the  paper,  until 
it  was  over,  did  not  reach  the  ears  of  Isabel,  nor  did 
she  once  see  the  man  on  whom  all  her  thoughts  were 
fixed  during  his  stay  in  England.  It  was  of  course 
impossible  for  her  to  take  the  initiative.  Moreover, 
Burton  was  invalided  most  of  the  time,  and  in  London 
but  little.  His  visit  to  England  was  a  short  one.  After 
a  month's  rest  he  obtained  leave — after  considerable 
difficulty,  for  he  was  no  favourite  with  the  War  Office — 
to  start  for  the  Crimea,  and  reached  there  in  October, 
1854.  He  had  some  difficulty  in  obtaining  a  post,  but 
at  last  he  became  attached  to  General  Beatson's  staff,  and 
was  the  organizer  of  the  Irregular  Cavalry  (Beatson's 
Horse :  the  Bashi-bazouks),  a  fact  duly  noted  in  Isabel's 
diary. 

The  winter  of  1854-55  was  a  terrible  one  for  our 
troops  in  the  Crimea,  and  public  feeling  in  England 
was  sorely  exercised  by  the  account  of  their  sufferings 
and  privations.  The  daughters  of  England  were  not 
backward  in  their  efforts  to  aid  the  troops.  Florence 
Nightingale  and  her  staff  of  nurses  were  doing  their 
noble  work  in  the  army  hospitals  at  Scutari ;  and  it 
was  characteristic  of  Isabel  that  she  should  move  heaven 
and  earth  to  join  them.  In  her  journal  at  this  time  we 
find  the  following : 

"  It  has  been  an  awful  winter  in  the  Crimea.  I  have 
given  up  reading  the  'Times  ;  it  makes  me  so  miserable, 


76       ttbe  -Romance  of  Ssabet  Xaog  JBurton 

and  one  is  so  impotent.  I  have  made  three  struggles 
to  be  allowed  to  join  Florence  Nightingale.  How  I 
envy  the  women  who  are  allowed  to  go  out  as  nurses ! 
I  have  written  again  and  again  to  Florence  Nightingale  ; 
but  the  superintendent  has  answered  me  that  I  am  too 
young  and  inexperienced,  and  will  not  do." 

But  she  could  not  be  idle.  She  could  not  sit  with 
folded  hands  and  think  of  her  dear  one  and  her  brave 
countrymen  out  yonder  suffering  untold  privations, 
and  do  nothing.  It  was  not  enough  for  her  to  weep 
and  hope  and  pray.  So  the  next  thing  she  thought 
of  was  a  scheme  for  aiding  the  almost  destitute  wives 
and  families  of  the  soldiers,  a  work  which,  if  she  had 
done  nothing  else,  should  be  sufficient  to  keep  her 
memory  green,  prompted  as  it  was  by  that  generous, 
loving  heart  of  hers,  which  ever  found  its  chiefest 
happiness  in  doing  good  to  others.  She  thus  describes 
her  scheme  : 

"  I  set  to  work  to  form  a  girls'  club  composed  of 
girls.  My  plan  was  to  be  some  little  use  at  home. 
First  it  was  called  the  'Whistle  Club,'  because  we 
all  had  tiny  silver  whistles  ;  and  then  we  changed  it 
to  the  '  Stella  Club,'  in  honour  of  the  morning  star— 
my  star.  Our  principal  object  was  to  do  good  at  home 
amongst  the  destitute  families  of  soldiers  away  in  the 
Crimea  ;  to  do  the  same  things  as  those  we  would  have 
done  if  we  had  the  chance  out  yonder  amongst  the 
soldiers  themselves.  We  started  a  subscription  soup- 
cauldron  and  a  clothing  collection,  and  we  got  from 
the  different  barracks  a  list  of  the  women  and  their 
children  married,  with  or  without  leave.  We  ascertained 


If  our  IlJears  of  1bope  Beferreb  77 

their  real  character  and  situations,  and  no  destitute 
woman  was  to  be  left  out,  nor  any  difference  made 
on  account  of  religion.  The  women  were  to  have 
employment ;  the  children  put  to  schools  according  to 
their  respective  religions,  and  sent  to  their  own  churches. 
Lodging,  food,  and  clothes  were  given  according  to 
our  means,  and  words  of  comfort  to  all,  teaching  the 
poor  creatures  to  trust  in  God  for  themselves  and  their 
husbands  at  the  war — the  only  One  from  whom  we 
could  all  expect  mercy.  We  undertook  the  wives  and 
families  of  all  regiments  of  the  Lifeguards  and  Blues 
and  the  three  Guards'  regiments.  We  went  the  rounds 
twice  a  week,  and  met  at  the  club  once  a  week.  There 
were  three  girls  to  each  locality  ;  all  of  us  dressed 
plainly  and  behaved  very  quietly,  and  acknowledged 
no  acquaintances  while  going  our  rounds.  We  carried 
this  out  to  the  letter,  and  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe 
the  scenes  of  misery  we  saw,  nor  the  homes  that  we 
saved,  nor  the  gratitude  of  the  soldiers  later  when  they 
returned  from  the  war  and  found  what  we  had  done. 
It  has  been  a  most  wonderful  success,  and  I  am  very 
happy  at  having  been  of  some  use.  The  girls  responded 
to  the  rules,  which  were  rigorously  carried  out ;  and 
when  I  look  at  my  own  share  of  the  business,  and 
multiply  that  by  a  hundred  and  fifty  girls,  I  think 
the  good  done  must  have  been  great.  In  ten  days, 
by  shillings  and  sixpences,  I  alone  collected  a  hundred 
guineas,  not  counting  what  the  others  did.  My  beat 
contained  one  hundred  women  of  all  creeds  and  situa- 
tions, and  about  two  hundred  children.  I  spared  no 
time  nor  exertions  over  and  above  the  established  rules. 


78       tCbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

I  read  and  wrote  their  letters,  visited   the   sick   and 
dying,  and  did  a  number  of  other  things. 

"  I  know  now  the  misery  of  London,  and  in  making 
my  rounds  I  could  give  details  that  would  come  up 
to  some  of  the  descriptions  in  The  Mysteries  of  Paris 
or  a  shilling  shocker.  In  many  cellars,  garrets,  and 
courts  policemen  warned  me  not  to  enter,  and  told 
me  that  four  or  five  of  them  could  not  go  in 
without  being  attacked  ;  but  I  always  said  to  them, 
'You  go  to  catch  some  rogue,  but  I  go  to  take  the 
women  something  ;  they  will  not  hurt  me ;  but  I  should 
be  glad  if  you  waited  outside  in  case  I  do  not  come 
out  again.'  But  the  ruffians  hanging  about  soon 
learnt  my  errand,  and  would  draw  back,  touch  their 
caps,  move  anything  out  of  my  way,  and  give  me  a 
kind  good-day  as  I  passed,  or  show  me  to  any  door 
that  I  was  not  sure  of.  Some  people  have  been  a  little 
hard  on  me  for  being  the  same  to  the  fallen  women  as 
to  the  good  ones.  But  I  do  hate  the  way  we  women 
come  down  upon  each  other.  Those  who  are  the 
loudest  in  severity  are  generally  the  first  to  fall  when 
temptation  comes  :  and  who  of  us  might  not  do  so 
but  for  God's  grace  ?  I  like  simplicity  and  large-minded 
conduct  in  all  things,  whether  it  be  in  a  matter  of 
religion  or  heart  or  the  world,  and  I  think  the  more 
one  knows  the  simpler  one  acts.  I  have  the  consola- 
tion of  knowing  that  all  the  poor  women  are  now  doing 
well  and  earning  an  honest  livelihood,  the  children 
fed,  clothed  and  lodged,  educated  and  brought  up  in 
the  fear  and  love  of  God,  and  in  many  a  soldier's 
home  my  name  is  coupled  with  a  blessing  and  a 


four  Dears  of  Ifoope  Beferreo  79 

prayer.  They  send  me  a  report  of  themselves  now 
once  a  month,  and  I  love  the  salute  of  many  an  honest 
and  brave  fellow  as  he  passes  me  in  the  street  with  his 
medal  and  clasps,  and  many  have  said,  *  But  for  you 
I  should  have  found  no  home  on  my  return.' ' 

After  the  fall  of  Sebastopol  the  war  was  virtually 
at  an  end,  and  the  allied  armies  wintered  amid  its 
ruins.  The  treaty  of  peace  was  signed  at  Paris  on 
March  30,  1856.  Five  months  before  the  signing  of 
the  treaty  Richard  Burton  returned  home  with  General 
Beatson,  his  commander-in-chief,  who  was  then  in- 
volved in  an  unfortunate  controversy.  An  evil  genius 
seemed  to  follow  Burton's  military  career,  and  it  pursued 
him  from  India  to  the  Crimea.  He  managed  to 
enrage  Lord  Stratford  so  much  that  he  called  him 
"  the  most  impudent  man  in  the  Bombay  army."  He 
was  certainly  one  of  the  most  unlucky,  even  in  his 
choice  of  chiefs.  Sir  Charles  Napier,  under  whom 
he  served  in  India,  was  far  from  popular  with  his 
superiors  ;  and  General  Beatson  was  always  in  hot 
water.  The  Beatson  trial  was  the  result  of  one  of  the 
many  muddles  which  arose  during  the  Crimean  War ; 
it  took  place  in  London  in  the  spring  (1856),  and 
Burton  gave  evidence  in  favour  of  his  chief.  But  this 
is  by  the  way.  What  we  are  chiefly  concerned  with 
is  the  following  line  in  Isabel's  diary,  written  soon  after 
his  return  to  England  : 

"  I  hear  that  Richard  has  come  home,  and  is  in  town. 
God  be  praised  !  " 

That  which  followed  will  be  told  in  her  own  words. 


CHAPTER  VI 

RICHARD  LOVES  ME 
(1856-1857) 

Daughter  of  nobles,  who  thine  aim  shall  gain, 
Hear  gladdest  news,  nor  fear  aught  hurt  or  bane. 
ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "Arabian  Nights"). 

NOW  this  is  what  occurred.  When  Richard  was 
well  home  from  the  Crimea,  and  had  attended 
Beatson's  trial,  he  began  to  turn  his  attention  to  the 
"  Unveiling  of  Isis  "  ;  in  other  words,  to  discover  the 
sources  of  the  Nile,  the  lake  regions  of  Central 
Africa,  on  which  his  heart  had  long  been  set ;  and  he 
passed  most  of  his  time  in  London  working  it  up. 

We  did  not  meet  for  some  months  after  his  return, 
though  we  were  both  in  London,  he  planning  his 
Central  African  expedition,  and  I  involved  in  the 
gaieties  of  the  season ;  for  we  had  a  gay  season 
that  year,  every  one  being  glad  that  the  war  was 
over.  In  June  I  went  to  Ascot.  There,  amid  the 
crowd  of  the  racecourse,  I  met  Hagar  Burton,  the  gypsy, 
for  the  first  time  after  many  years,  and  I  shook  hands 

with  her.     "  Are  you  Daisy  Burton   yet  ? "   was  her 

80 


Xoves  dDe  81 

first  question.  I  shook  my  head.  "  Would  to  God 
I  were  !  "  Her  face  lit  up.  "  Patience  ;  it  is  just 
coming."  She  waved  her  hand,  for  at  that  moment 
she  was  rudely  thrust  from  the  carriage.  I  never  saw 
her  again,  but  I  was  engaged  to  Richard  two  months 
later.  It  came  in  this  wise. 

One  fine  day  in  August  I  was  walking  in  the 
Botanical  Gardens  with  my  sister.  Richard  was  there. 
We  immediately  stopped  and  shook  hands,  and  asked 
each  other  a  thousand  questions  of  the  four  intervening 
years ;  and  all  the  old  Boulogne  memories  and  feelings 
returned  to  me.  He  asked  me  if  I  came  to  the 
Gardens  often.  I  said,  "  Oh  yes,  we  always  come  and 
read  and  study  here  from  eleven  to  one,  because  it  is 
so  much  nicer  than  studying  in  the  hot  room  at  this 
season."  "  That  is  quite  right,"  he  said.  "  What  are 
you  studying  ?  "  I  held  up  the  book  I  had  with  me 
that  day,  an  old  friend,  Disraeli's  ^ancred^  the  book 
of  my  heart  and  taste,  which  he  explained  to  me.  We 
were  in  the  Gardens  about  an  hour,  and  when  I  had 
to  leave  he  gave  me  a  peculiar  look,  as  he  did  at 
Boulogne.  I  hardly  looked  at  him,  yet  I  felt  it,  and 
had  to  turn  away.  When  I  got  home,  my  mind  was 
full  of  wonder  and  presentiment  ;  I  felt  frightened  and 
agitated ;  and  I  looked  at  myself  in  the  glass  and 
thought  myself  a  fright ! 

Next  morning  we  went  to  the  Botanical  Gardens 
again.  When  we  got  there,  he  was  there  too,  alone, 
composing  some  poetry  to  show  to  Monckton  Milnes 
on  some  pet  subject.  He  came  forward,  and  said 
laughingly,  "  You  won't  chalk  up  f  Mother  will  be 

VOL.   i.  6 


8a       Ube  IRomance  ot  Isabel  Xafcg  JBurtou 

angry,'  as  you  did  when  you  were  at  Boulogne,  when 
I  used  to  want  to  speak  to  you."  So  we  walked  and 
talked  over  old  times  and  people  and  things  in  general. 

About  the  third  day  his  manner  gradually  altered 
towards  me  ;  we  had  begun  to  know  each  other,  and 
what  might  have  been  an  ideal  love  before  was  now 
a  reality.  This  went  on  for  a  fortnight.  I  trod 
on  air. 

At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  he  stole  his  arm  round 
my  waist,  and  laid  his  cheek  against  mine  and  asked 
me,  "  Could  you  do  anything  so  sickly  as  to  give  up 
civilization  ?  And  if  I  can  get  the  Consulate  of  Damascus, 
will  you  marry  me  and  go  and  live  there  ?  "  He  said, 
/  Do  not  give  me  an  answer  now,  because  it  will  mean 
a  very  serious  step  for  you — no  less  than  giving  up 
your  people  and  all  that  you  are  used  to,  and  living 
the  sort  of  life  that  Lady  Hester  Stanhope  led.  I  see 
the  capabilities  in  you,  but  you  must  think  it  over." 
I  was  long  silent  from  emotion  ;  it  was  just  as  if  the 
moon  had  tumbled  down  and  said,  "  You  have  cried 
for  me  for  so  long  that  I  have  come."  But  he,  who 
did  not  know  of  my  long  love,  thought  I  was  thinking 
worldly  thoughts,  and  said,  "  Forgive  me  ;  I  ought  not 
to  have  asked  so  much."  At  last  I  found  voice,  and 
said,  "  I  do  not  want  to  think  it  over — I  have  been 
thinking  it  over  for  six  years,  ever  since  I  first  saw 
you  at  Boulogne.  I  have  prayed  for  you  every  morning 
and  night,  I  have  followed  all  your  career  minutely, 
I  have  read  every  word  you  ever  wrote,  and  I  would 
rather  have  a  crust  and  a  tent  with  you  than  be  queen 
of  all  the  world  ;  and  so  I  say  now,  *  Yes,  yest  YES  !  ' 


Xoves  flfce  83 

I  will  pass  over  the  next  few  minutes.  .  .  . 

Then  he  said,  "Your  people  will  not  give  you 
to  me."  I  answered,  "I  know  that,  but  I  belong  to 
myself — I  give  myself  away."  "That  is  all  right," 
he  answered  ;  t(  be  firm,  and  so  shall  I." 

I  would  have  suffered  six  years  more  for  such  a  day, 
such  a  moment  as  this.  All  past  sorrow  was  forgotten 
in  it.  All  that  has  been  written  or  said  on  the  subject 
of  the  first  kiss  is  trash  compared  to  the  reality.  Men 
might  as  well  undertake  to  describe  Eternity.  I  then 
told  him  all  about  my  six  years  since  I  first  met  him, 
and  all  that  I  had  suffered. 

When  I  got  home,  I  knelt  down  and  prayed,  and  my 
whole  soul  was  flooded  with  joy  and  thanksgiving.  A 
few  weeks  ago  I  little  thought  what  a  change  would 
take  place  in  my  circumstances.  Now  I  mused  thus  : 
"  Truly  we  never  know  from  one  half-hour  to  another 
what  will  happen.  Life  is  like  travelling  in  an  open 
carriage  with  one's  back  to  the  horses — you  see  the 
path,  you  have  an  indistinct  notion  of  the  sides,  but 
none  whatever  of  where  you  are  going.  If  ever  any  one 
had  an  excuse  for  superstition  and  fatalism,  I  have. 
Was  it  not  foretold  ?  And  now  I  have  gained  half  the 
desire  of  my  life  :  he  loves  me.  But  the  other  half 
remains  unfulfilled  :  he  wants  to  marry  me  !  Perhaps 
I  must  not  regret  the  misery  that  has  spoilt  the  six  best 
years  of  my  life.  But  must  I  wait  again  ?  What  can  I 
do  to  gain  the  end  ?  Nothing  !  My  whole  heart  and 
mind  is  fixed  on  this  marriage.  If  I  cared  less,  I  could 
plan  some  course  of  action;  but  my  heart  and  head  are 
not  cool  enough.  Providence  and  fate  must  decide  my 


84        ZTbc  IRomance  of  Jsabcl  Zafcg  Burton 

future.  I  feel  all  my  own  weakness  and  nothingness.  I 
am  as  humble  as  a  little  child.  Richard  has  the  upper 
hand  now,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  at  last  met  the  master 
who  can  subdue  me.  They  say  it  is  better  to  marry 
one  who  loves  and  is  subject  to  you  than  one  whose 
slave  you  are  through  love.  But  I  cannot  agree  to  this. 
Where  in  such  a  case  is  the  pleasure,  the  excitement,  the 
interest  ?  In  one  sense  I  have  no  more  reason  to  fear 
for  my  future,  now  that  the  load  of  shame,  wounded 
pride,  and  unrequited  affection  is  lifted  from  my  brow 
and  soul.  He  loves  me — that  is  enough  to-day." 

After  this  Richard  visited  a  little  at  our  house  as 
an  acquaintance,  having  been  introduced  at  Boulogne  ; 
and  he  fascinated,  amused,  and  pleasantly  shocked  my 
mother,  but  completely  magnetized  my  father  and  all 
my  brothers  and  sisters.  My  father  used  to  say,  "  I  do 
not  know  what  it  is  about  that  man,  but  I  cannot  get 
him  out  of  my  head ;  I  dream  about  him  every  night." 

Richard  and  I  had  one  brief  fortnight  of  uninterrupted 
happiness,  and  were  all  in  all  to  each  other;  but  inasmuch 
as  he  was  to  go  away  directly  on  his  African  journey 
with  Speke  to  the  future  lake  regions  of  Central 
Africa,  we  judged  it  ill  advised  to  announce  the  engage- 
ment to  my  mother,  for  it  would  have  brought  a 
hornets'  nest  about  our  heads,  and  not  furthered  our 
cause — and,  besides,  we  were  afraid  of  my  being  sent 
away,  or  of  being  otherwise  watched  and  hindered  from 
our  meeting  ;  so  we  agreed  to  keep  it  a  secret  until  he 
came  back.  The  worst  of  it  all  was,  that  I  was  unable, 
first,  by  reason  of  no  posts  from  a  certain  point,  and, 
secondly,  by  the  certainty  of  having  his  letters  opened 


IRtcbart)  Sieves  /iDe  85 

and  read,  to  receive  many  letters  from  him,  and  those 
only  the  most  cautious  ;  but  I  could  write  to  him  as 
freely  as  possible,  and  send  them  to  the  centres  where 
his  mail-bags  would  be  sent  out  to  him.  All  my 
happiness  therefore  was  buried  deep  in  my  heart,  but 
always  was  chained.  I  felt  as  if  earth  had  passed  and 
heaven  had  begun,  or  as  if  I  had  hitherto  been  some- 
body else,  or  had  lived  in  some  other  world.  But  even 
this  rose  had  its  thorn,  and  that  was  the  knowledge 
that  our  marriage  seemed  very  far  off.  The  idea  of 
waiting  for  willing  parents  and  a  grateful  country 
appeared  so  distant  that  I  should  scarcely  be  worth 
the  having  by  the  time  all  obstacles  were  removed. 
Richard  too  was  exercised  about  how  I  should  be  able 
to  support  his  hard  life,  and  whether  a  woman  could 
really  do  it.  Another  sorrow  was  that  I  had  to  be 
prepared  to  lose  him  at  any  moment,  as  he  might  have 
to  quit  at  a  moment's  notice  on  receiving  certain 
information. 

I  gave  him  Hagar  Burton's  horoscope,  written  in 
Romany — the  horoscope  of  my  future.  One  morning 
(October  3)  I  went  to  meet  him  as  usual,  and  we 
agreed  to  meet  the  following  morning.  He  had 
traced  for  me  a  little  sketch  of  what  he  expected  to 
find  in  the  lake  regions,  and  I  placed  round  his  neck 
a  medal  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  upon  a  steel  chain,  which 
we  Catholics  commonly  call  "the  miraculous  medal." 
He  promised  me  he  would  wear  it  throughout  his 
journey,  and  show  it  me  on  his  return.  I  had  offered 
it  to  him  on  a  gold  chain,  but  he  said,  "  Take  away 
the  gold  chain  ;  they  will  cut  my  throat  for  it  out  there." 


86       TTbe  IRomancc  of  Isabel  Xaty?  JSurtou 

He  showed  me  the  steel  chain  round  his  neck  when  he 
came  back ;  he  wore  it  all  his  life,  and  it  is  buried  with 
him.  He  also  gave  me  a  little  poem  : 

I  wore  thine  image,  Fame, 
Within  a  heart  well  fit  to  be  thy  shrine ; 
Others  a  thousand  boons  may  gain — 
One  wish  was  mine : 

The  hope  to  gain  one  smile, 
To  dwell  one  moment  cradled  on  thy  breast, 
Then  close  my  eyes,  bid  life  farewell, 
And  take  my  rest! 

And  now  I  see  a  glorious  hand 
Beckon  me  out  of  dark  despair, 
Hear  a  glorious  voice  command, 

"  Up,  bravely  dare ! 

And  if  to  leave  a  deeper  trace 
On  earth  to  thee  Time,  Fate,  deny, 
Drown  vain  regrets,  and  have  the  grace 
Silent  to  die." 

She  pointed  to  a  grisly  land, 
Where  all  breathes  death— earth,  sea,  and  air; 
Her  glorious  accents  sound  once  more, 
"  Go  meet  me  there." 

Mine  ear  will  hear  no  other  sound, 
No  other  thought  my  heart  will  know. 
Is  this  a  sin  ?     "  Oh,  pardon,  Lord  ! 

Thou  mad'st  me  so !  " 

R.  F.  B. 

The  afternoon  on  which  I  last  met  him  was  the 
afternoon  of  the  same  day.  He  came  to  call  on  my 
mother.  We  only  talked  formally.  I  thought  I  was 
going  to  see  him  on  the  morrow.  It  chanced  that 
we  were  going  to  the  play  that  night.  I  begged  of 


IRicbarfc 

him  to  come,  and  he  said  he  would  if  he  could,  but 
that  if  he  did  not,  I  was  to  know  that  he  had  some 
heavy  business  to  transact.  When  I  had  left  him  in 
the  morning,  I  little  thought  it  was  the  last  kiss,  or  I 
could  never  have  said  good-bye,  and  I  suppose  he  knew 
that  and  wished  to  spare  me  pain.  How  many  little 
things  I  could  have  said  or  done  that  I  did  not  !  We 
met  of  course  before  my  mother  only  as  friends.  He 
appeared  to  me  to  be  agitated,  and  I  could  not  account 
for  his  agitation.  He  stayed  about  an  hour  ;  and  when 
he  left  I  said  purposely,  "  I  hope  we  shall  see  you  on 
your  return  from  Africa,"  and  almost  laughed  outright, 
because  I  thought  we  should  meet  on  the  morrow. 
He  gave  me  a  long,  long  look  at  the  door,  and  I  ran 
out  on  the  balcony  and  kissed  my  hand  to  him,  and 
thus  thoughtlessly  took  my  last  look,  quite  unprepared 
for  what  followed. 

I  went  to  the  theatre  that  evening  quite  happy,  and 
expected  him.  At  10.30  I  thought  I  saw  him  at  the 
other  side  of  the  house  looking  into  our  box.  I  smiled, 
and  made  a  sign  for  him  to  come.  I  then  ceased  to 
see  him  ;  the  minutes  passed,  and  he  did  not  come. 
Something  cold  struck  my  heart ;  I  felt  that  I  should 
not  see  him  again,  and  I  moved  to  the  back  of  the 
box,  and,  unseen,  the  tears  streamed  down  my  face. 
The  old  proverb  kept  haunting  me  like  an  air  one 
cannot  get  out  of  one's  head,  "There's  many  a  true 
word  spoken  in  jest."  The  piece  was  Pizarro,  and 
happily  for  me  Cora  was  bewailing  her  husband's  loss 
on  the  stage,  and  as  I  am  invariably  soft  at  tragedy 
my  distress  caused  no  sensation. 


88       TTbe  IRomance  of  30abel  Xafcg  JSurton 


I  passed  a  feverish,  restless  night  ;  I  could  not  sleep  ; 
I  felt  that  I  could  not  wait  till  morning  —  I  must  see 
him.  At  last  I  dozed  and  started  up,  but  I  touched 
nothing,  yet  dreamt  I  could  feel  his  arms  round  me. 
I  understood  him,  and  he  said,  "  I  am  going  now,  my 
poor  girl.  My  time  is  up,  and  I  have  gone  ;  but  I  will 
come  again  —  I  shall  be  back  in  less  than  three  years.  I 
am  your  Destiny." 

He  pointed  to  the  clock,  and  it  was  two.  He  held 
up  a  letter,  looked  at  me  long  with  those  gypsy  eyes 
of  his,  put  the  letter  down  on  the  table,  and  said  in  the 
same  way,  "  That  is  for  your  sister  —  not  for  you."  He 
went  to  the  door,  gave  me  another  of  those  long 
peculiar  looks,  and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

I  sprang  out  of  bed  to  the  door  into  the  passage 
(there  was  nothing),  and  thence  I  went  to  the  room  of 
one  of  my  brothers,  in  whom  I  confided.  I  threw 
myself  on  the  ground  and  cried  my  heart  out.  He  got 
up  and  asked  what  ailed  me,  and  tried  to  soothe  and 
comfort  me.  "  Richard  is  gone  to  Africa,"  I  said, 
"  and  I  shall  not  see  him  for  three  years."  €<  Nonsense," 
he  replied  ;  "  you  have  only  got  a  nightmare  ;  it  was  that 
lobster  you  had  for  supper  ;  you  told  me  he  was  coming 
to-morrow."  "  So  I  did,"  I  sobbed  ;  "  but  I  have  seen 
him  in  a  dream,  and  he  told  me  he  had  gone  ;  and  if 
you  will  wait  till  the  post  comes  in,  you  will  see  that  I 
have  told  you  truly." 

I  sat  all  night  in  my  brother's  armchair,  and  at  eight 
o'clock  in  the  morning  when  the  post  came  in  there  was 
a  letter  for  my  sister  Blanche,  enclosing  one  for  me. 
Richard  had  found  it  too  painful  to  part  from  me,  and 


IRicbarfc  %o\>es  flfoe  89 

thought  we  should  suffer  less  that  way  ;  he  begged  her 
to  break  it  gently  to  me,  and  to  give  me  the  letter,  which 
assured  me  we  should  be  reunited  in  1859,  as  we  were 
on  May  22  that  year.  He  had  received  some  secret 
information,  which  caused  him  to  leave  England  at  once 
and  quietly,  lest  he  should  be  detained  as  witness  at  some 
trial.  He  had  left  his  lodgings  in  London  at  10.30 
the  preceding  evening  (when  I  saw  him  in  the  theatre), 
and  sailed  at  two  o'clock  from  Southampton  (when  I 
saw  him  in  my  room). 

I  believe  there  is  a  strong  sympathy  between  some 
people  (it  was  not  so  well  known  then,  but  it  is  quite 
recognized  now) — so  strong  that,  if  they  concentrate  their 
minds  on  each  other  at  a  particular  moment  and  at  the 
same  time,  and  each  wills  strongly  to  be  together,  the 
will  can  produce  this  effect,  though  we  do  not  yet 
understand  how  or  why.  When  I  could  collect  my 
scattered  senses,  I  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Richard  all 
about  this,  in  the  event  of  my  being  able  to  send  it 
to  him. 

But  to  return.  At  8.30  Blanche  came  into  the  room 
with  the  letter  I  have  mentioned,  to  break  the  sad  news 
to  me.  "  Good  heavens  !  "  she  said,  "  what  has  happened 
to  you  ?  You  look  dreadful !  "  f '  Richard  is  gone  !  " 
I  gasped  out.  "  How  did  you  know  ? "  she  asked. 
"  Because  I  saw  him  here  in  the  night !  "  "  That  will 
do  you  the  most  good  now,"  she  said.  The  tears 
came  into  her  eyes  as  she  put  a  letter  from  Richard  into 
my  hand,  enclosed  in  one  to  herself,  the  one  I  had  seen 
in  the  night.  The  letter  was  a  great  comfort  to  me, 
and  I  wore  it  round  my  neck  in  a  little  bag.  Curiously 


90       ttbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaog  JSurton 

enough  I  had  to  post  my  letter  to  him  to  Trieste — the 
place  where  in  after-life  we  spent  many  years — by  his 
direction.  It  was  the  last  exertion  I  was  capable  of ; 
the  next  few  days  I  spent  in  my  bed. 

My  happiness  had  been  short  and  bright,  and  now 
I  had  to  look  forward  to  three  years  of  my  former 
patient  endurance,  only  with  this  great  change  :  before 
I  was  unloved  and  had  no  hope  ;  now  the  shame  of 
loving  unasked  was  taken  from  me,  and  I  had  the 
happiness  of  being  loved,  and  some  future  to  look 
forward  to.  When  I  got  a  little  better,  I  wrote  the 
following  reflections  to  myself: 

"  A  woman  feels  raised  by  the  Jove  of  a  man  to 
whom  she  has  given  her  whole  heart,  but  not  if  she 
feels  that  she  loves  and  does  not  respect,  or  that  he 
fails  in  some  point,  and  for  such-and-such  reasons  she 
would  not  marry  him.  But  when  she  loves  without 
reserve,  she  holds  her  head  more  proudly,  from  the 
consciousness  of  being  loved  by  him — no  matter  what 
the  circumstances.  So  I  felt  with  Richard,  for  he  is 
above  all  men — so  noble,  so  manly,  with  such  a  perfect 
absence  of  all  meanness  and  hypocrisy.  It  is  true  I 
was  captivated  at  first  sight ;  but  his  immense  talents 
and  adventurous  life  compelled  interest,  and  a  master- 
mind like  his  exercises  influence  over  all  around  it. 
But  I  love  him,  because  I  find  in  him  depth  of  feeling, 
a  generous  heart,  and  because,  though  brave  as  a  lion, 
he  is  yet  a  gentle,  delicate,  sensitive  nature,  and  the 
soul  of  honour.  Also  he  is  calculated  to  appear  as 
something  unique  and  romantic  in  a  woman's  eyes, 
especially  because  he  unites  the  wild,  lawless  creature 


TRtcbarfc  %oves  /Ifce  91 

and  the  gentleman.  He  is  the  latter  in  every  sense  of 
the  word,  a  stamp  of  the  man  of  the  world  of  the  best 
sort,  for  he  has  seen  things  without  the  artificial 
atmosphere  of  St.  James's  as  well  as  within  it.  I 
worship  ambition.  Fancy  achieving  a  good  which 
affects  millions,  making  your  name  a  national  name  ! 
It  is  infamous  the  way  half  the  men  in  the  world  live 
and  die,  and  are  never  missed,  and,  like  a  woman,  leave 
nothing  behind  them  but  a  tombstone.  By  ambition 
I  mean  men  who  have  the  will  and  power  to  change 
the  face  of  things.  I  wish  I  were  a  man  :  if  I  were,  I 
would  be  Richard  Burton.  But  as  I  am  a  woman, 
I  would  be  Richard  Burton's  wife.  I  love  him  purely, 
passionately,  and  devotedly  :  there  is  no  void  in  my 
heart  ;  it  is  at  rest  for  ever  with  him.  For  six  years 
this  has  been  part  of  my  nature,  part  of  myself,  the 
basis  of  all  my  actions,  even  part  of  my  religion  ;  my 
whole  soul  is  absorbed  in  it.  I  have  given  my  every 
feeling  to  him,  and  kept  back  nothing  for  myself  or 
the  world  ;  and  I  would  this  moment  sacrifice  and 
leave  all  to  follow  his  fortunes,  were  it  his  wish,  or  for 
his  good.  Whatever  the  world  may  condemn  in  him 
of  lawless  actions  or  strong  opinions,  whatever  he  is  to 
the  world,  he  is  perfect  to  me ;  and  I  would  not  have 
him  otherwise  than  he  is — except  in  spiritual  matters. 
This  last  point  troubles  me.  I  have  been  brought  up 
strictly,  and  have  been  given  clear  ideas  on  all  subjects 
of  religion  and  principle,  and  have  always  tried  to  live 
up  to  them.  When  I  am  in  his  presence,  I  am  not 
myself — he  makes  me  for  the  time  see  things  with  his 
own  eyes,  like  a  fever  or  a  momentary  madness ;  and 


92       ZIbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xat>g  JSurton 

when  I  am  done  again,  I  recall  my  own  belief  and 
ways  of  thinking,  which  remain  unchanged,  and  am 
frightened  at  my  weak  wayering  and  his  dangerous  but 
irresistible  society.  He  is  gone  ;  but  had  I  the  chance 
now,  I  would  give  years  of  my  life  to  hear  that  dear 
voice  again,  with  all  its  devilry.  I  have  no  right  to 
love  a  man  who  calls  himself  a  complete  materialist, 
who  has  studied  almost,  I  might  say,  beyond  the  depth 
of  knowledge,  who  professes  to  acknowledge  no  God, 
no  law,  human  or  divine.  Yet  I  do  feel  a  close 
suspicion  that  he  has  much  more  feeling  and  belief 
than  he  likes  to  have  the  credit  of." 

After  Richard  was  gone  I  got  a  letter  from  him 
dated  from  Bruges,  October  9,  telling  me  to  write 
to  Trieste,  and  that  he  would  write  from  Trieste  and 
Bombay.  I  sent  three  letters  to  Trieste  and  six  to 
Bombay.  He  asked  me  if  I  was  offended  at  his  abrupt 
departure.  Ah,  no  !  I  take  the  following  from  my 
diary  of  that  time  : 

"  I  have  now  got  into  a  state  of  listening  for  every 
post,  every  knock  making  the  heart  bound,  and  the 
sickening  disappointment  that  ensues  making  it  sink  ; 
but  I  say  to  myself,  *  If  I  am  true,  nothing  can  harm 
me.'  My  delight  is  to  sit  down  and  write  to  him  all 
and  everything,  just  as  it  enters  my  head,  as  I  would  if 
I  were  with  him.  My  letters  are  half  miserable,  half 
jocose,  for  I  do  not  want  to  put  him  out  of  spirits, 
whatever  I  may  be  myself.  I  feel  that  my  letters  are 
a  sort  of  mixture  of  love,  trust,  anger,  faith,  sar- 
casm, tenderness,  bullying,  melancholy,  all  mixed  up. 
...  He  has  arrived  at  Alexandria.  ...  At  any  rate 


Xoves  flDe  93 

my  heart  and  affections  are  my  own  to  give,  I  rob 
no  one,  and  so  I  will  remain.  I  have  a  happy  home, 
family,  society,  all  I  want,  and  I  shall  not  clip  my  wings 
of  liberty  except  for  him,  whatever  my  lot  may  be.  I 
love  and  am  loved,  and  so  strike  a  balance  in  favour  of 
existence.  No  gilded  misery  for  me.  I  was  born  for 
love,  and  require  it  as  air  and  light.  Whatever  harsh- 
ness the  future  may  bring,  he  has  loved  me,  .and  my 
future  is  bound  up  in  him  with  all  consequences.  My 
jealous  heart  spurns  all  compromise;  it  must  have  its 
purpose  or  break.  He  thinks  he  is  sacrificing  me ;  but 
I  want  pain,  privations,  danger  with  him.  I  have  the 
constitution  and  nerves  for  it.  There  are  few  places 
I  could  not  follow  my  husband,  and  be  to  him  com- 
panion, friend,  wife,  and  all.  Where  I  could  not  so 
follow  him,  I  would  not  be  a  clog  to  him,  for  I  am 
tolerably  independent." 

Our  friends  used  sometimes  to  talk  about  Richard  at 
this  time  and  his  expedition.  Whilst  they  discussed 
him  as  a  public  man,  I  was  in  downright  pain  lest  they 
should  say  something  that  I  should  not  like.  Father 
told  them  that  he  was  a  friend  of  ours.  I  then  practised 
discussing  him  with  the  greatest  sang  froid,  and  of 
course  gave  a  vivid  description  of  him,  which  inspired 
great  interest.  His  books,  travels,  and  adventures 
were  talked  of  by  many.  I  told  Richard  in  one  letter 
that  it  was  the  case  of  the  mouse  and  the  lion  ;  but  I 
teased  him  by  saying  that  when  the  mouse  had  nibbled 
a  hole  big  enough  the  lion  forgot  him  because  he  was 
so  small,  and  put  his  big  paw  on  him  and  crushed  him 
altogether.  I  knew  that  his  hobby  was  reputation  ;  he 


94       Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  JSurton 

was  great  in  the  literary  world,  men's  society,  clubs, 
and  the  Royal  Geographical  Society.  But  I  wished  him 
also  to  be  great  in  the  world  of  fashion,  where  my 
despised  sex  is  paramount.  I  also  knew  that  if  a  man 
gets  talked  about  in  the  right  kind  of  way  in  handfuls 
of  the  best  society,  here  and  there,  his  fame  quickly 
spreads.  I  had  plenty  of  opportunities  to  help  him  in 
this  way  without  his  knowing  it,  and  great  was  the 
pleasure.  Again  I  fall  back  on  my  journal : 

"  I  beg  from  God  morning  and  night  that  Richard 
may  return  safe.  Will  the  Almighty  grant  my  prayer  ? 
I  will  not  doubt,  whether  I  hear  from  him  or  not.  I 
believe  that  we  often  meet  in  spirit  and  often  look  at 
the  same  star.  I  have  no  doubt  he  often  thinks  of  me  ; 
and  when  he  returns  and  finds  how  faithful  I  have  been, 
all  will  be  right.  There  is  another  life  if  I  lose  this, 
and  there  is  always  La  Trappe  left  for  the  broken- 
hearted. 

"Christmas  Day,  1856. — I  was  delighted  to  hear 
father  and  mother  praising  Richard  to-day ;  mother 
said  he  was  so  clever  and  agreeable  and  she  liked  him 
so  much,  and  they  both  seemed  so  interested  about  him. 
They  little  knew  how  much  they  gratified  me.  I  was 
reading  a  book ;  but  when  the  time  came  to  put  it  away, 
I  found  it  had  been  upside-down  all  the  time,  so  I  fancy 
I  was  more  absorbed  in  their  conversation  than  its 
contents.  I  have  been  trying  to  make  out  when  it  is 
midnight  in  Eastern  Africa,  and  when  the  morning  star 
shines  there,  and  I  have  made  out  that  at  10  p.m.  it  is 
midnight  there,  and  the  morning  star  shines  on  him 
two  hours  before  it  does  on  me. 


%oves  /Ifoe  95 

"January  2,  1857. — I  see  by  the  papers  that  Richard 
left  Bombay  for  Zanzibar  with  Lieutenant  Speke  on 
December  2  last.  I  am  struck  by  the  remembrance 
that  it  was  on  that  very  night  that  I  was  so  ill 
and  delirious.  I  dreamt  I  saw  him  sailing  away  and 
he  spoke  to  me,  but  I  thought  my  brain  throbbed  so 
loud  that  I  could  not  hear  him.  I  was  quite  taken  off 
my  guard  to-day  on  hearing  the  news  read  out  from  the 
Times,  so  that  even  my  mother  asked  me  what  was  the 
matter.  I  have  not  had  a  letter;  I  might  get  one  in  a 
fortnight ;  but  I  must  meet  this  uncertainty  with  con- 
fidence, and  not  let  my  love  be  dependent  on  any  action 
of  his,  because  he  is  a  strange  man  and  not  as  other  men. 

"  January  18. — Unless  to-morrow's  mail  brings  me 
a  letter,  my  hope  is  gone.  What  is  the  cause  of 
his  silence  I  cannot  imagine.  If  he  had  not  said  he 
would  write,  I  could  understand  it.  But  nothing  shall 
alter  my  course.  It  is  three  months  since  he  left,  and  I 
have  only  had  two  letters  ;  yet  I  feel  confident  that 
Richard  will  be  true,  and  I  will  try  to  deserve  what 
I  desire,  so  that  I  shall  always  have  self-consolation. 
My  only  desire  is  that  he  may  return  safe  to  me  with 
changed  religious  feelings,  and  that  I  may  be  his  wife 
with  my  parents'  consent.  Suspense  is  a  trial  which  I 
must  bear  for  two  years  without  a  murmur.  I  must 
trust  and  pray  to  God  ;  I  must  keep  my  faith  in  Him, 
and  live  a  quiet  life,  employ  myself  only  in  endeavour- 
ing to  make  myself  worthy ;  and  surely  this  conduct 
will  bring  its  reward." 


CHAPTER  VII 

MY  CONTINENTAL    TOUR:    ITALY 
(1857-1858) 

Leave  thy  home  for  abroad  an  wouldst  rise  on  high, 

And  travel  whence  benefits  fivefold  arise — 

The  soothing  of  sorrow  and  winning  of  bread, 

Knowledge,  manners,  and  commerce  with  good  men  and  wise ; 

And  they  say  that  in  travel  are  travail  and  care, 

And  disunion  of  friends  and  much  hardship  that  tries. 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "Arabian  Nights"). 

IN  August,  1857,  nearly  a  year  after  Richard  had 
gone,  my  sister  Blanche  married  Mr.  Smyth 
Pigott,  of  Brockley  Court,  Somerset,  and  after  the 
honeymoon  was  over  they  asked  me  to  travel  abroad 
with  them.  I  was  glad  to  go,  for  it  helped  the 
weary  waiting  for  Richard,  who  was  far  away  in  Central 
Africa. 

On  September  30  we  all  took  a  farewell  dinner 
together,  and  were  very  much  inclined  to  choke  over  it, 
as  we  were  about  to  disperse  for  some  time,  and  poor 
mother  especially  was  upset  at  losing  her  two  girls. 
On  that  occasion  she  indulged  in  a  witticism.  She  told 
me  that  she  had  heard  by  a  little  bird  that  I  was  fond 

96 


Continental  Uour :  3tal£  97 

of  Richard  ;  but  little  thinking  she  was  speaking  any- 
thing in  earnest,  she  said,  "  Well,  if  you  marry  that 
man,  you  will  have  sold  your  birthright  not  for  a  mess 
of  pottage,  but  for  Burton  ale."  I  quickly  answered  her 
back  again,  "  Well,  a  little  bird  told  me  that  you  were 
ordered  an  immense  quantity  of  it  all  the  time  you 
were  in  the  family  way  with  me,  so  that  if  anything 
does  happen  we  shall  call  it  heredity,"  upon  which  we 
both  laughed.  We  all  left  home  at  six  o'clock  for 
London  Bridge  Station  :  we — my  sister,  her  husband, 
and  myself — to  go  on  the  journey,  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  came  with  us  to  see  us  off. 

We  had  a  beautiful  passage  of  six  and  a  half  hours, 
and  slept  in  rugs  on  deck.  There  was  a  splendid  moon 
and  starlight.  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 
the  captain  made  friends  with  me,  and  talked  about 
yachting.  He  had  been  nearly  all  over  the  world. 
The  morning  star  was  very  brilliant,  and  I  always 
look  at  it  with  particular  affection  when  I  am  on  board 
ship,  thinking  that  what  I  love  best  lies  under  it.  We 
got  to  the  station  at  Dieppe  at  7.30  a.m.  ;  and  then 
ensued  a  tedious  journey  to  Paris. 

The  next  day  we  drove  about  Paris,  and  then  went 
to  the  Palais  Royal,  Trois  Freres  Provenceaux,  where 
we  dined  in  a  dear  little  place  called  a  cabinet,  very 
like  an  opera-box.  It  was  my  first  experience  of  that 
sort  of  thing.  The  cabinet  overlooked  the  arcade  and 
garden.  We  had  a  most  recherche  little  dinner,  and 
only  one  thing  was  wanting  to  make  it  perfect  enjoy- 
ment to  me.  The  Pigotts  sat  together  on  one  side  of 
the  table,  and  I — alone  on  the  other,  I  put  a  place 

VOL.  i.  7 


9s       abe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

for  Richard  by  me.  After  dinner  we  strolled  along 
the  principal  boulevards.  I  can  easily  understand  a 
Parisian  not  liking  to  live  out  of  Paris.  We  saw  it 
to  great  advantage  that  night — a  beautiful  moon  and 
clear,  sharp  air. 

This  day  (October  3)  last  year  how  wretched  and 
truly  miserable  I  was  !  On  the  evening  of  this  day 
Richard  left  !  We  drove  out  and  went  to  the  Pre  de 
Catalan,  where  there  was  music,  dancing,  and  other 
performances.  We  went  to  the  opera  in  the  evening. 
A  petit  souper  afterwards.  This  night  last  year  was  a 
memorable  one.  If  Richard  be  living,  he  will  remember 
me  now ;  it  was  the  night  of  my  parting  with  him  a 
year  ago  when  he  went  to  Africa  for  three  years. 

We  left  Paris  three  days  later  ;  arrived  at  Lyons  7  a.m. 
The  next  morning  breakfasted,  dogs  and  all,  and  were  at 
Marseilles  at  5  p.m.  I  should  have  been  glad  to  stay 
longer  at  Marseilles ;  I  thought  it  the  most  curious 
and  picturesque  place  I  had  ever  seen.  We  arrived  just 
too  late  for  the  diligence.  There  was  no  steamer.  A 
veterino  was  so  slow,  and  we  could  not  remain  till 
Saturday,  so  we  did  not  know  what  to  do.  At  last  we 
discovered  that  a  French  merchant  vessel  was  going  to 
sail  at  8  o'clock  p.m. ;  but  it  was  a  pitch-dark  night,  and 
there  was  a  strong,  hard  wind,  or  mistral,  with  the  sea 
running  very  high.  However,  we  held  a  consultation, 
and  agreed  we  would  do  it  for  economy ;  so  we  got 
our  berths,  and  went  and  dined  at  the  Hotel  des 
Ambassadeurs,  table  d'hote,  where  I  sat  by  a  cousin  of 
Billy  Johnson,  a  traveller  and  linguist.  We  frater- 
nized, and  he  made  himself  as  agreeable  as  only  such 


Continental  tlour :  Stals  99 

men  can.  After  dinner  we  went  on  board,  and  all  the 
passengers  went  down  to  their  berths.  I  dressed  myself 
in  nautical  rig,  and  went  on  deck  to  see  all  that  I  could. 
We  passed  the  Isle  d'Hyeres  and  the  Chateau  d'lf  of 
Monte  Christo.  We  could  not  go  between  the  rocks, 
owing  to  the  mistral.  The  moon  arose,  it  blew  hard, 
and  we  shipped  heavy  seas.  The  old  tub  creaked  and 
groaned  and  lurched,  and  every  now  and  then  bid  fair 
to  stand  on  beam-ends.  Being  afraid  of  going  to  sleep, 
I  lashed  myself  to  a  bench  ;  two  Frenchmen  joined  me, 
one  a  professor  of  music,  the  other  rather  a  rough 
diamond,  who  could  speak  a  mouthful  of  several 
languages,  had  travelled  a  little,  and  he  treated  me  to  a 
description  of  India,  and  told  me  all  the  old  stories 
English  girls  hear  from  their  military  brothers  and 
cousins  from  the  cradle.  Every  time  we  shipped  a  sea 
all  the  French,  Italian,  and  Spanish  passengers  gave 
prolonged  howls  and  clung  to  each  other  ;  it  might 
have  been  an  Irish  wake.  They  were  so  frightfully  sick, 
poor  things !  It  hurt  my  inside  to  hear  them,  and  it 
was  worse  to  see  them.  Meanwhile  my  two  companions 
and  I  had  pleasant  conversation,  not  only  on  India, 
but  music  and  Paris.  By-and-by  they  too  gradually 
dropped  off;  so  I  went  down  and  tumbled  into  my 
berth,  and  slept  soundly  through  the  night. 

I  was  aroused  next  morning  by  a  steward  redolent  of 
garlic.  Our  maid  shared  the  cabin  with  me,  and  treated 
me  to  a  scene  like  the  deck  of  the  preceding  evening. 
Why  are  maids  always  sick  at  sea,  and  have  to  be  waited 
on,  poor  things,  by  their  mistresses  who  are  not  ?  There 
was  such  a  noise,  such  heat  and  smells.  I  slept  till  we 


ioo      zibe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xa&B  JBurton 

were  in  Nice  Harbour.  My  sister  and  her  husband 
went  off  to  find  a  house  ;  I  cleared  the  baggage  and 
drove  to  the  Hotel  Victoria,  where  we  dined,  and  then 
went  to  our  new  lodging. 

I  was  not  sorry  to  be  housed,  after  being  out  two 
days  and  two  nights.  I  got  up  next  morning  at  6  a.m.; 
there  was  a  bright,  beautiful  sky,  a  dark  blue  sea,  and 
such  a  lightness  in  the  air.  I  went  out  to  look  about 
me.  Nice  is  a  very  pretty  town,  tolerably  clean,  with 
very  high  houses,  beautiful  mountains,  and  a  perfect 
sea,  and  balminess  in  the  air.  There  is  something 
Moorish-looking  about  the  people  and  place.  I  am 
told  there  is  no  land  between  us  and  Tunis — three 
hundred  miles ! — and  that  when  the  sirocco  comes  the 
sand  from  the  great  desert  blows  across  the  sea  on  to 
our  windows.  We  have  an  African  tree  in  our  garden. 
And  Richard  is  over  there  in  Africa. 

My  favourite  occupation  while  at  Nice  was  sitting 
on  the  shingle  with  my  face  to  the  sea  and  toward? 
Africa.  I  hate  myself  because  I  cannot  sketch.  If 
I  could  only  exchange  my  musical  talent  for  that, 
I  should  be  very  happy.  There  is  such  a  beautiful 
variety  in  the  Mediterranean  :  one  day  it  looks  like 
undulating  blue  glass  ;  at  others  it  is  dark  blue,  rough, 
and  dashing,  with  white  breakers  on  it  ;  but  hardly 
ever  that  dull  yellowish  green  as  in  our  Channel,  which 
makes  one  bilious  to  look  at  it.  The  sky  is  glorious, 
so  high  and  bright,  so  soft  and  clear,  and  the  only 
clouds  you  ever  see  are  like  little  tufts  of  rose-coloured 
wool.  The  best  time  to  sit  here  is  sunset.  One  does 
not  see  the  rays  so  distinctly  in  England  ;  and  when  the 


Continental  Uour :  3tal£  101 

sun  sinks  behind  the  hills  of  the  frontier,  there  is  such 
a  purple,  red,  and  gold  tint  on  the  sea  and  sky  that  many 
would  pronounce  it  overdone  or  unnatural  in  a  painting. 
A  most  exquisite  pink  shade  is  cast  over  the  hills  and 
town.  There  is  one  nice  opera-house  at  Nice,  one 
pretty  church,  a  corso  and  terrace,  where  you  go  to 
hear  the  band  and  eat  ices  in  the  evening ;  there 
is  the  reading  club  at  Visconti's  for  ladies  as  well  as 
men,  where  you  can  read  and  write  and  meet  others 
and  enjoy  yourself.  (I  am  talking  of  1857.)  Our 
apartments  suit  us  very  well.  My  portion  consists  of 
a  nice  lofty  bedroom,  a  painted  ceiling,  furnished  in 
English  style,  a  little  bathroom  paved  with  red  china, 
and  a  little  sort  of  ante-drawing-room.  My  windows 
look  over  a  little  garden,  where  the  African  tree  is, 
and  the  sea  beyond,  and  beyond  that  again  Africa  and 
Richard. 

We  left  Nice  for  Genoa  at  5.30  on  November  14, 
my  sister,  her  husband,  and  self,  in  the  coupe,  which 
was  very  much  like  being  packed  as  sardines — no 
room  for  legs.  However,  we  were  very  jolly,  only 
we  got  rather  stiff  during  the  twenty-four  hours' 
journey  ;  for  we  only  stopped  twice — once  for  ten 
minutes  at  Oniglia  at  4  a.m.  for  a  cup  of  coffee,  and 
once  at  noon  next  day  for  half  an  hour  at  another  place 
to  dine.  However,  I  was  too  happy  to  grumble,  having 
just  received  a  letter  saying  that  Richard  would  be 
home  in  next  June,  1858  (he  was  not  home  for  a  year 
later)  ;  we  smoked  and  chatted  and  slept  alternately. 
The  Cornice  road  is  beautiful — a  wild,  lonely  road  in 
the  mountains,  with  precipices,  ravines,  torrents,  and 


IRomance  of  30abel  Xafcg  JBurton 

passes  of  all  descriptions  :  the  sea  beneath  us  on  one  side, 
and  mountains  covered  with  snow  on  the  other.  You 
seem  to  pass  into  all  sorts  of  climates  very  speedily.  On 
the  land  to  our  left  was  a  fine  starlight  sky  and  clear, 
sharp  air,  and  on  the  sea  thunder  and  lightning  and 
a  white  squall.  There  was  always  the  excitement  of 
imagining  that  a  brigand  might  come  or  a  torrent  be 
impassable ;  but  alas !  not  a  ghost  of  an  adventure, 
except  once  catching  a  milestone.  I  think  the  Whip 
Club  would  be  puzzled  at  the  driving  :  sometimes  we 
have  eleven  horses,  each  with  a  different  rein ;  to  some 
the  drivers  whistle,  to  others  they  talk.  It  is  tiresome 
work  crawling  up  and  down  the  mountains ;  but  when 
they  do  get  a  bit  of  plain  ground,  they  seem  to  go  ten 
miles  an  hour,  tearing  through  narrow  streets  where 
there  seems  scarcely  room  for  a  sheet  of  paper  between 
the  diligence  and  the  wall,  whirling  round  sharp  zigzag 
corners  with  not  the  width  of  a  book  between  the  wheel 
and  the  precipice,  and  that  at  full  gallop.  We  created 
a  great  sensation  at  one  of  our  halting-places,  and 
indeed  everywhere,  for  we  were  in  our  nautical  rig; 
and  what  amused  the  natives  immensely  was  that  one 
of  our  terriers  was  a  very  long  dog  with  short  legs, 
and  they  talked  of  the  yards  of  dog  we  had  with  us. 
We  at  last  arrived  at  Genoa. 

I  liked  Genoa  far  better  than  Nice :  the  sky  is 
more  Italian  ;  the  sea  looks  as  if  it  washed  the 
town,  or  as  if  the  town  sprang  out  of  it ;  it  is  all 
so  hilly.  The  town  with  its  domes  looks  like  white 
marble.  The  lower  range  of  mountains  is  covered 
with  monasteries,  forts,  pretty  villas,  and  gardens  ;  the 


Continental  ftour :  Stals  103 

other  ranges  are  covered  with  snow.  There  are  six 
or  seven  fine  streets,  connected  by  a  network  of  very 
narrow,  oddly  paved  side-streets,  whose  tall  houses 
nearly  meet  at  the  top  ;  they  are  picturesque,  and  look 
like  the  pictures  of  the  Turkish  bazaar.  Mazzini  is 
here,  and  the  Government  hourly  expect  an  outbreak  of 
the  Republican  party.  The  troops  are  under  arms,  and 
a  transport  with  twelve  hundred  men  from  Turin  and 
troops  from  Sardinia  have  arrived.  The  offer  to  the 
Neapolitan  Government  to  expel  the  exiles  is  the  cause. 
The  police  are  hunting  up  Mazzini  ;  Garibaldi  is  here  ; 
Lord  Lyons'  squadron  is  hourly  expected. 

I  have  been  abroad  now  two  months.  I  have  had 
one  unsatisfactory  note  from  Richard  ;  he  is  coming 
back  in  June  or  July.  Oh  what  a  happiness  and 
what  anxiety  !  In  a  few  short  months,  please  God, 
this  dreadful  separation  will  be  over.  Pray !  Pray  !  ! 
Pray  !  !  ! 

Monsieur  Pernay  spent  an  evening  with  me  ;  and 
seeing  the  picture  on  the  wall  of  Richard  in  Meccan 
costume,  he  asked  me  what  it  was  ;  and  on  my  telling 
him,  he  composed  a  valse  on  the  spot,  and  called  it 
"  Richard  in  the  Desert,"  and  said  he  should  compose  a 
libretto  on  it.  How  I  wish  Richard  were  here  !  It 
makes  me  quite  envious  when  I  see  my  sister  and  her 
husband.  I  am  all  alone,  and  Richard's  place  is  vacant 
in  the  opera-box,  in  the  carriage,  and  everywhere. 
Sometimes  I  dream  he  came  back  and  would  not  speak 
to  me,  and  I  wake  up  with  my  pillow  wet  with  tears. 

My  first  exclamation  as  the  clock  struck  twelve  on 
St.  Sylvester's  night,  1857,  as  we  all  shook  hands  and 


io4      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaos  Em-ton 

drank  each  other's  health  in  a  glass  of  punch  at  the 
Cafe  de  la  Concorde,  was,  "  This  year  I  shall  see 
Richard ! " 

On  the  first  Sunday  of  the  year  I  went  to  hear  Mass 
at  Saint  Philip  Neri,  and  then  went  to  the  post-office, 
whtfre  a  small  boy  pushed  up  against  me  and  stole  my 
beloved  picture  of  Richard  out  of  my  pocket.  I  did 
not  feel  him  do  it,  but  a  horrible  idea  of  having  lost 
the  picture  came  over  me.  I  felt  for  it,  and  it  was 
gone  !  I  had  a  beautiful  gold  chain  in  my  pocket,  and 
a  purse  with  £25  ;  yet  the  young  rascal  never  touched 
them,  but  seemed  to  know  that  I  should  care  only  for 
the  portrait.  I  instantly  rushed  off  to  every  crier  in 
the  town  ;  had  two  hundred  affiches  printed  and  stuck 
up  in  every  corner  ;  I  put  a  paragraph  in  the  papers ;  I 
asked  every  priest  to  give  it  out  in  the  pulpit  ;  the 
police,  the  post-office,  every  corner  of  the  town  was 
warned.  Of  course  I  pretended  it  was  a  picture 
of  my  brother.  After  three  agonizing  days  and  nights 
an  old  woman  brought  it  back,  the  frame  gone,  the 
picture  torn,  rubbed,  and  smeared,  which  partly 
effaced  the  expression  of  the  face  and  made  it  look  as 
if  it  knew  where  it  had  been  and  how  it  had  been 
defiled.  The  story  was  that  her  little  boy  had  found  it 
in  that  state  in  a  dirty  alley  ;  and  thinking  it  was  a 
picture  of  Jesus  Christ  or  a  saint,  took  it  home  to  his 
little  brother  to  keep  him  good  when  he  was  naughty, 
and  threw  it  in  their  toy  cupboard.  A  poor  priest 
happened  to  dine  with  this  poor  family,  and  mentioned 
the  affiche,  in  which  the  words  uffidale  Inglese  as  large 
as  my  head  appeared.  The  boys  then  produced  the 


Continental  Uout :  3tals  105 

wreck  of  the  portrait,  and  asked  if  that  could  possibly 
be  the  article,  and  if  it  was  really  true  that  the  Signorina 
was  willing  to  give  so  much  for  it  ;  and  the  priest 
said  "  Yes,"  for  the  Signorina  had  wept  much  for  the 
portrait  of  her  favourite  brother  who  was  killed  in  the 
Crimea.  So  it  was  brought,  and  the  simple  Signorina 
gladly  gave  three  napoleons  to  the  old  woman  to  know 
that  she  possessed  all  that  remained  of  that  much-loved 
face.  But  that  boy — oh  that  boy  ! — got  off  scot-free, 
and  the  Signorina's  reward  did  not  induce  any  one  to 
bring  him  to  her.  Doubtless,  finding  the  stolen  picture 
of  no  value  to  him,  he  had  maltreated  it  and  cast  it  in 
the  gutter.  How  I  could  spank  him  ! 

We  left  Genoa  at  9  a.m.  on  January  15.  We  wished 
good-bye  to  a  crowd  of  friends  inside  and  outside  the 
hotel.  We  had  a  clean,  roomy  veterino  with  four  capital 
little  horses  at  the  door  charged  with  our  luggage,  a 
capital  vetturino  (coachman),  and  room  for  four  inside 
and  four  out.  A  jolly  party  to  fill  it.  It  was  agreed 
we  should  divide  the  expenses,  take  turns  for  the 
outside  places,  and  be  as  good-humoured  as  possible. 
Luckily  for  me  nobody  cared  for  the  box-seat,  so  I 
always  got  it.  The  first  day  we  did  thirty  miles. 
Our  halting-place  for  the  day  was  Ruta,  where  some- 
thing befell  me.  I  lost  my  passport  at  Nervi,  several 
miles  back  ;  a  village  idiot  to  whom  I  gave  a  penny 
picked  it  up  and  sold  it  to  a  peasant  woman  for  twelve 
sous,  who  happened  to  be  riding  on  a  mule  into  Ruta, 
and  halted  where  we  were  feeding.  Our  vetturino 
(Emanuele)  happened  to  see  it  and  recognized  it  in 
her  hand,  bought  it  back  again  for  twelve  sous,  and 


106      ftbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 


gave  it  to  me.  It  would  have  been  a  fatal  loss  to 
me.  Soon  after  sunset  we  halted  for  the  night  at 
Sestri  ;  the  horses  had  done  enough  for  the  day.  Four 
or  five  carriages  had  been  attacked  this  winter,  and 
there  was  a  report  of  a  large  number  of  murders  near 
Ancona,  and  there  was  no  other  sleeping-place  to  be 
reached  that  night.  We  soon  had  a  capital  fire,  supper, 
and  beds. 

On  this  journey  we  planned  out  our  day  much 
as  follows  :  We  rose  at  daybreak  and  started  ;  we 
had  breakfast  in  the  carriage  after  three  hours'  drive. 
We  passed  our  day  in  eating  and  drinking,  laughing  and 
talking,  smoking  and  sleeping,  and  some  mooning  and 
sentimentalizing  over  the  scenery  :  I  the  latter  sort, 
and  improving  my  Italian  on  the  vetturino.  We  used 
to  halt  half-way  two  hours  for  the  horses  to  rest 
and  dinner,  and  then  drive  till  dark  where  we  halted 
for  the  night,  ordered  fire,  supper,  and  beds,  wrote 
out  our  journals,  made  our  respective  accounts,  and 
smoked  our  cigarettes.  The  scenery  and  weather  varied 
every  day. 

We  slept  a  night  at  Sestri,  and  went  on  at  daybreak. 
This  day  I  had  a  terrible  heartache  ;  to  my  horror 
we  had  a  leader,  the  ghost  of  a  white  horse  covered 
with  sores,  ridden  by  a  fine,  strapping  wag  of  a  youth, 
who  told  me  his  master  was  rich  and  stingy,  and  did 
not  feed  him,  let  alone  the  horse,  which  only  had 
a  mouthful  when  employed.  I  told  him  his  master 
would  go  to  hell,  and  he  assured  me  smilingly  that 
he  was  sure  his  soul  was  already  there,  and  that  it 
was  only  his  body  that  was  walking  about.  I  asked 


Continental  ftonv  :  Stals  107 


him  to  sell  the  horse  to  me,  and  let  me  shoot  him  ; 
but  he  shook  his  head  and  laughed.  "You  English 
treat  your  horses  better  than  masters  treat  their  servants 
in  Italy,"  said  he,  as  we  topped  the  mountain.  At  my 
request  Emanuele  gave  the  poor  beast  a  feed  and  sent 
him  back,  poor  mass  of  skin  and  bones  that  it  was. 
It  was  not  fit  to  carry  a  fly,  and  I  am  told  it  was  the 
best  horse  he  had.  That  day  our  journey  was  a  forty 
weary  miles  of  black,  barren  ascent  and  descent, 
amongst  snowy  mountains,  which  looked  as  if  man 
or  beast  had  never  trod  there.  Our  halt  was  at 
Borghetto  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  At  the  end  of 
the  forty  miles  came  a  delightful  surprise.  We  were 
on  a  magnificent  ridge  of  Maritime  Alps  covered  with 
snow  ;  a  serpentine  road  led  us  down  into  a  beautiful 
valley  and  Spezzia  on  the  sea,  the  beautiful  Gulf. 
The  Croce  di  Malta  was  a  comfortable  little  hotel. 
In  half  an  hour  we  were  round  a  roaring  fire  with  a 
good  supper. 

Next  morning  we  took  a  boat  and  explored  the 
Gulf,  the  Source  d'Eau,  Lerici,  where  Byron  and  Shelley 
lived.  That  day  was  the  Feast  of  Saint  Anthony  ; 
the  horses  were  blessed,  which  is  a  very  amusing 
sight.  It  was  the  first  night  of  the  Carnival,  and  the 
Postilions'  Ball,  to  which  we  were  invited  and  went. 
It  was  full  of  peasant-girls  and  masqueraders  ;  it  was 
capital  fun,  and  we  danced  all  night.  The  costumes 
here  are  very  pretty  ;  they  and  the  pronunciation  change 
about  every  forty  miles. 

The  day  we  went  away  we  had  great  fun.  The 
Magra  had  to  be  passed  two  hours  from  Spezzia  ; 


io8      ubc  IRomance  of  Isabel  Zaos  Em-ton 

it  is  a  river  with  a  bridge  broken  down.  The  peasants, 
working,  look  for  all  the  world  like  diggers  at  the 
diggings ;  they  are  lawless  enough  to  do  anything. 
You  get  out  and  walk  a  mile  amongst  them  ;  your 
carriage  is  embarked  in  a  barge  ;  it  wades  through  and 
gets  filled  with  water  ;  the  men  at  their  pleasure  upset 
it,  or  demand  eighty  francs  or  so.  However,  we  were 
all  game  for  anything  that  might  occur,  knowing  how 
they  treated  others.  Our  vetturino  was  a  regular 
brick — waded  through  with  it  without  an  accident ;  we 
walked  through  with  all  our  money  about  us,  dressing- 
cases  in  hand,  our  jackets  with  belts  and  daggers  in 
them.  One  man  became  rather  abusive ;  but  we 
laughed  at  him,  and  gave  him  a  universal  chaffing. 
They  followed  us,  and  were  annoying  ;  but  we  swaggered 
along,  and  looked  like  people  troubled  with  mosquitoes 
instead  of  ruffians,  and  not  given  to  fainting  and 
hysterics.  So  at  last  they  were  rather  inclined  to 
fraternize  with  us  than  otherwise.  I  suspect  that  they 
were  accustomed  to  timid  travellers.  After  this  we 
passed  Sarzana,  a  town  of  some  consequence  in  these 
parts,  with  a  castle  and  fortress.  The  weather  this 
day  was  cold  and  biting,  especially  on  the  box-seat, 
and  the  scenery,  except  at  Carrara,  no  great  shakes.  We 
found  Carrara  in  a  state  of  siege,  and  the  troops  occupied 
the  hotel.  Emanuele  found  a  sort  of  stable,  but  we 
could  get  no  food. 

After  this  we  proceeded  by  stages,  and  stopped  some 
days  at  several  places,  and  made  long  interior  excursions, 
which  I  was  often  too  tired  to  note.  At  last  we  arrived 
at  Pisa.  We  had  no  trouble  with  the  douanier* 


Continental  Uour :  Stals  109 

When  I  entered  the  Tuscan  frontier,  I  declared  I  would 
never  say  another  word  of  French  ;  and  Emanuele,  who 
was  a  wag,  sent  all  the  douaniers  to  me  ;  but  a  franc,  a 
smile,  an  assurance  that  we  had  nothing  contraband, 
and  the  word  was  given  to  pass.  We  scarcely  ever  had 
our  baggage  touched  ;  but  that  was  in  1858. 

In  Pisa  we  saw  many  things,  including  the  Baptisteria, 
the  Campanile  or  leaning  tower,  the  Duomo,  and  the 
Sapienza,  an  object  of  interest  to  me^  as  Richard  passed 
so  much  of  his  boyhood  here,  and  that  was  his  school. 
I  regret  to  say  the  most  debauched  and  ungentlemanly 
part  of  the  population  issued  from  this  place,  which 
distressed  me,  who  held  it  sacred  because  of  him.  The 
Granda  Bretagna  was  a  very  nice  hotel,  with  a  good 
table  d'hote^  and  all  English.  It  had  every  comfort ;  only, 
being  full,  we  could  only  get  small,  dark  rooms  at  the 
back,  which  was  dull,  and  with  nothing  but  stoves  ;  and 
the  weather  being  bitter,  we  were  petrified.  We  went 
a  great  deal  to  the  Duomo  and  the  Campo  Santo,  where 
the  figures  rather  made  us  laugh,  though  I  felt  senti- 
mental enough  about  other  things.  At  the  top  of  the 
Campanile  or  leaning  tower,  or  belfry,  I  found  that 
Richard  had  chiselled  his  name,  so  I  did  the  same. 
How  curious  it  would  have  been  if  while  he  was  doing 
it  he  could  have  said,  "  My  future  wife  will  also  come 
and  chisel  hers,  so  many  years  later,  in  remembrance 
of  me." 

The  man  who  shows  the  Campanile  remembered 
Richard,  and  it  was  he  who  told  me  where  he  cut 
his  name  at  the  top  of  the  tower. 

The   last  day  I  was   in   Pisa    (January  25)  it  was 


1 10      tTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaos  JSurton 

our  Princess  Royal's  wedding  day.  We  had  a  grand 
dinner,  champagne,  toasts,  and  cheering.  The  table 
d'hote  was  decorated  with  our  yacht  flags.  One  of 
the  English  ladies  invited  us  to  her  rooms,  where  we 
had  music  and  dancing,  and  I  talked  to  one  girl  of 
seventeen,  who  proved  to  be  an  original  after  my  own 
heart.  After  the  soiree,  we  smoked  a  cigarette  and 
discussed  our  plans.  The  next  morning  we  had  to 
leave  Pisa.  We  were  all  sorry  to  part. 

Half  an  hour's  train  brought  us  to  Leghorn,  where 
we  got  pretty  rooms  at  the  Victoria  and  Washington. 
It  is  quite  spring  weather,  beautiful  sky  and  sea  ;  again 
flat,  ugly  country,  but  the  range  of  mountains  shows  to 
advantage  ;  the  air  is  delicious,  and  we  are  all  well  and  in 
spirits.  The  town  is  very  fine,  the  people  tant-soit-peu- 
Portsmouth-like.  There  is  nothing  to  see  at  Leghorn. 
Faute  de  mieux  we  went  to  see  an  ugly  duomo,  which, 
however,  contained  Canova's  Tempo,  the  one  statue 
of  which  you  hear  from  morning  till  night.  We  also 
visited  the  English  Cemetery,  which  contained  Smollett's 
tomb.  There  are  the  docks  to  see,  and  Habib's  bazaar, 
a  rogue,  and  not  too  civil,  but  he  has  beautiful  Eastern 
things.  The  town  is  in  a  state  of  siege,  and  no  Carnival 
is  allowed. 

We  left  Leghorn  on  February  I  for  Florence,  and 
visited  successively  many  queer,  little,  out-of-the-way 
towns  en  route. 

The  first  day  at  Florence  we  drove  about  to  have 
a  general  view  of  the  city,  and  after  that  we  visited  the 
principal  palazzos,  churches,  and  theatres — all  of  which 
have  often  been  described  before.  We  were  at  Florence 


Continental  tTout:  3tals  m 

nearly  a  month.  We  saw  one  Sunday's  Carnival,  one 
opera,  one  masked  ball.  We  had  several  friends,  who 
were  anxious  for  us  to  stay,  and  go  into  society ;  but 
time  pressed,  and  we  had  to  decline.  Every  evening 
we  used  to  go  to  the  theatre,  and  some  of  our  friends 
would  invite  us  to  pefits  soupers.  At  Florence  all 
Richard's  friends,  finding  I  knew  his  sister  in  England, 
were  kind  to  us  ;  and  we  were  very  sorry  to  start  at 
3  a.m.  on  February  1 1  en  route  for  Venice. 

We  were  five  individuals,  with  our  baggage  on 
our  backs,  turned  into  a  rainy  street,  cutting  a  sorry 
figure  and  laughing  at  ourselves.  The  diligence  started 
at  once.  We  had  twenty-one  hours  to  Bologna,  drawn 
by  oxen  at  a  foot's  pace  through  the  snow,  which  the 
cantonniers  had  cleared  partially  away,  but  which  often 
lay  in  heaps  of  twelve  or  twenty  feet  untouched.  I  never 
saw  such  magnificent  snow  scenes  as  when  crossing 
the  Apennines.  We  slept  at  Bologna,  saw  it,  and  took 
a  vetturino  next  day.  The  drive  was  a  dreary,  flat  snow 
piece  of  forty  miles  in  length.  Malebergo  was  the 
only  town.  We  here  came  across  a  horrid  thing.  Two 
men  had  fallen  asleep  in  a  hay-cart  smoking ;  it  caught 
fire,  burnt  the  men,  cart,  hay,  and  all.  The  horse  ran 
away,  had  its  hind-quarters  burnt  out,  and  they  were 
all  three  dead,  men  and  horse.  It  gave  us  a  terrible 
turn,  but  we  could  do  nothing.  Next  morning  we 
were  up  at  four  o'clock.  We  crossed  the  river  Po  at 
seven  o'clock  ;  it  was  bitter  cold.  We  drove  fifty  miles 
that  day  ;  the  last  twelve  were  very  pretty.  At  length 
we  reached  Padua.  The  ground  was  like  ice  ;  our  off 
leader  fell,  and  was  dragged  some  little  distance.  (How 


n2      Ube  Romance  of  Ssabel  Xaos  JBurton 

little  I  thought  then  that  I  should  be  a  near  neighbour 
and  frequent  visitor  of  all  these  places  during  the 
eighteen  last  years  of  my  married  life  !)  When  we  left 
Padua,  we  had  twenty-seven  miles  more  to  go,  where 
we  exchanged  for  the  (to  us  girls)  new  wonder  of  a 
gondola,  which  took  us  to  the  Hotel  Europa  in  Venice. 
We  were  not  sorry  to  have  got  through  our  journey, 
and  a  blazing  fire  and  a  good  supper  and  cigarette 
soon  effaced  the  memory  of  the  cold,  starvation,  and 
weariness  we  had  gone  through  for  so  long.  We 
wanted  no  rocking  that  night. 

It  is  all  very  well  writing  ;  but  nothing  I  could 
ever  say  would  half  express  my  enthusiasm  for  Venice. 
It  fulfils  all  the  exigencies  of  romance;  it  is  the 
only  thing  that  has  never  disappointed  me.  I  am  so 
happy  at  Venice.  Except  for  Richard's  absence,  I  have 
not  another  wish  ungratified  ;  and  I  also  like  it  because 
this  and  Trieste  were  the  last  places  he  was  in  near 
home  when  he  started  for  Africa. 

Not  a  night  passes  here  that  I  do  not  dream  that 
Richard  has  come  home  and  will  not  speak  to  me  ;  not 
a  day  that  I  do  not  kneel  down  twice,  praying  that 
God  may  send  him  a  ray  of  divine  grace,  and  bring 
him  to  religion,  and  also,  though  I  feel  quite  unworthy 
of  so  high  a  mission,  that  I  may  be  his  wife,  for  I 
so  love  and  care  for  him  that  I  should  never  have 
courage  to  take  upon  myself  the  duties  of  married  life 
with  any  other  man.  I  have  seen  so  much  of  married 
life;  have  seen  men  so  unjust,  selfish,  and  provoking; 
and  have  always  felt  I  never  could  receive  an  injury 
from  any  man  but  him  without  everlasting  resentment. 


Continental  Uouv:  3tal#  113 

Oh,  if  he  should  come  home  and  have  changed,  it 
would  break  my  heart !  I  would  rather  die  than  see 
that  day ! 

We  plan  out  our  days  here,  rising  at  eight,  breakfast 
nine,  Mass,  spending  the  morning  with  friends,  music, 
reading,  working,  writing,  reading  French  and  Italian, 
and  some  sketching.  At  one  o'clock  we  start  to  ex- 
plore all  the  beautiful  things  to  be  seen  here,  then  we 
go  to  a  very  cheerful  table  d'hote,  and  afterwards  spend 
a  most  agreeable  evening  in  each  other's  apartments,  or 
we  gondola  about  to  listen  to  the  serenades  by  moon- 
light. I  think  we  have  walked  and  gondolaed  the 
place  all  through  by  day  and  moon.  How  heavenly 
Venice  would  have  been  with  Richard,  we  two  floating 
about  in  these  gondolas  !  Our  friends  are  a  charming 
Belgian  couple  named  Hagemans,  two  little  children, 
and  a  nice  sister,  and  last,  though  not  least,  the 
Chevalier  de  St.  Cheron.  The  Chevalier  is  a  perfect 
French  gentleman  of  noble  family,  good-looking,  fasci- 
nating, brilliant  in  conversation  ;  has  much  heart,  esprit, 
and  delicatesse  ;  he  is  more  solid  than  most  Frenchmen, 
and  better  informed,  and  has  noble  sentiments,  head  and 
heart ;  and  yet,  were  he  an  Englishman,  I  should  think 
him  vain  and  ignorant.  He  has  a  few  small  prejudices 
and  French  tricks,  which  are,  however,  little  faults  of 
nationality,  education,  and  circumstance,  but  not  of 
nature.  Henri  V.,  the  Bourbon  King,  called  the 
Comte  de  Chambord,  lives  at  the  Palazzo  Cavalli,  and 
holds  a  small  court,  kept  up  in  a  little  state  by  devoted 
partisans,  who  are  under  the  surveillance  of  the  police, 
and  have  three  or  four  different  lodgings  everywhere. 

VOL.  i.  8 


"4      TTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

St.  Cheron  is  his  right-hand  man  and  devoted  to  him, 
and  will  be  in  the  highest  office  when  he  comes  to 
the  throne.  As  we  are  devoted  to  the  Bourbons  he 
introduced  us  there,  and  the  King  helped  to  make  our 
stay  happy  to  us. 

We  arrived  in  Venice  for  the  end  of  the  Carnival. 
The  last  night  of  it  we  went  to  the  masked  ball  at 
the  Finice;  it  was  the  most  brilliant  sight  I  ever  saw. 
We  masked  and  dominoed,  and  it  was  there  that  the 
Chevalier  and  I  first  came  in  contact  and  spoke  ;  he 
had  been  watching  for  an  opportunity.  The  evening 
after  the  ball  he  came  to  table  d'hote  and  spoke  to  us, 
and  asked  leave  to  pay  us  an  evening  visit,  which  he 
did  (the  Hagemans  were  there  too) ;  and  from  that 
we  spent  all  our  evenings  and  days  together. 

One  night  we  rowed  in  gondolas  by  moonlight  to 
the  Lido  ;  we  took  the  guitar.  I  never  saw  Venice 
look  so  beautiful.  The  water  was  like  glass,  and  there 
was  not  a  sound  but  the  oars'  splashing.  We  sang 
glees.  Arrived  at  the  Lido,  we  had  tea  and  walked 
the  whole  length  of  the  sands.  That  night  was  one  of 
many  such  evenings  in  queenly  Venice.  I  shall  often 
remember  the  gondolier's  serenades,  the  beautiful  moon 
and  starlight,  the  gliding  about  in  the  gondola  in  all  the 
romantic  parts  of  Venice,  the  soft  air,  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  hearing  only  the  splash  of  oars,  and  nothing 
stirring  except  perhaps  some  dark  and  picturesque 
figure  crossing  the  bridge,  the  little  Madonna  chapel 
on  the  banks  of  the  Lido  edging  the  Adriatic,  the 
Piazza  of  San  Marco  with  the  band,  and  ices  out- 
side FJorian's,  the  picturesque  Armenians,  Greeks,  and 


Continental  TTour:  Staly  us 

Moors,  and  the  lovely  water-girls  with  their  bigolo^ 
every  language  sounding  in  one's  ears.  I  remember  too 
all  my  favourite  localities,  too  numerous  to  set  down, 
but  known  doubtless  to  every  lover  of  Venice. 

On  the  days  that  were  too  bad  for  sight-seeing  we 
and  our  friends  read  Byron,  talked  French,  and  sketched  ; 
on  indifferent  days  we  lionized  ;  and  on  beautiful  days 
we  floated  about  round  the  islands.  I  had  two  particu- 
larly happy  days ;  they  were  the  summer  mornings 
when  the  sun  shone  and  the  birds  sang ;  and  we  were 
all  so  gay  we  sang  too,  and  the  Adriatic  was  so  blue. 
There  were  two  or  three  beautiful  brigs  sometimes 
sailing  for  Trieste. 

One  day  Henri  V.  desired  the  Chevalier  to  bring  us 
to  a  private  audience.  Blanche  wore  her  wedding-dress 
with  pearls  and  a  slight  veil  ;  my  brother-in-law  was  in 
his  best  R.Y.S.  uniform,  and  I  in  my  bridesmaid's  dress. 
We  had  a  very  smart  gondola  covered  with  our  flags, 
the  white  one  uppermost  for  the  Bourbons,  which  did 
not  escape  the  notice  of  the  King,  and  the  gondoliers  in 
their  Spanish-looking  sashes  and  broad  hats.  Blanche 
looked  like  a  small  sultana  in  her  bridal  robes  sitting 
amidst  her  flags.  We  were  received  by  the  Due  de 
Levis  and  the  Comtesse  de  Chavannes  ;  there  was  also 
a  Prince  Somebody,  and  an  emissary  from  the  Pope 
waiting  for  an  audience.  As  soon  as  the  latter  came  out 
we  were  taken  in,  and  most  graciously  received  ;  and 
the  King  invited  us  to  sit.  He  was  middle  height  and 
fair,  a  beau-ideal  of  a  French  gentleman,  with  winning 
manners.  His  consort  was  tall,  gaunt,  very  dry  and 
cold,  but  she  was  kind.  They  asked  us  a  thousand 


n6      ftbe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcg  JBurton 

questions ;  and  as  my  French  was  better  than  the  others', 
I  told  them  all  about  our  yachting,  and  all  we  had  seen 
and  were  going  to  see ;  and  they  were  much  interested. 
I  was  also  able  to  tell  the  King  that  when  he  was  a  little 
boy  he  had  condescended  to  ask  my  mother  to  dance, 
and  that  it  was  one  of  the  proudest  souvenirs  of  her 
life.  My  brother-in-law  behaved  with  great  ease  and 
dignity;  he  put  his  yacht  and  his  services  at  the  King's 
disposal,  and  expressed  our  respectful  attachment  to  the 
House  of  Bourbon.  We  thanked  them  for  receiving 
us.  After  about  twenty  minutes  they  saluted  us ;  we 
curtseyed  to  the  ground,  backed  to  the  door,  repeated 
the  curtsey,  and  disappeared.  We  were  received  again 
by  the  Due  de  Levis  and  the  Comtesse  de  Chavannes, 
and  conducted  to  the  gondola.  I  am  proud  to  say  that , 
we  heard  that  the  King  was  enthusiastic  about  Blanche 
and  myself,  and  subsequently  that  night  at  dinner  and 
many  a  day  after  he  spoke  of  us.  We  also  heard 
from  the  Chevalier  and  a  Vicomte  Simonet  that  the 
King  was  charmed  with  my  brother-in-law  for  turning 
the  white  flag  upwards  and  offering  him  the  use  of  his 
yacht. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MY  CONTINENTAL   TOUR:    SWITZERLAND 
(1858) 

You're  far,  yet  to  my  heart  you're  nearest  near; 
Absent,  yet  present  in  my  sprite  you  appear. 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "  Arabian  Nights  "). 

WE  left  Venice  one  evening  in  early  April  at  half- 
past  nine,  after  six  weeks'  stay,  and  travelled 
by  the  night  train  to  Padua.  We  then  went  through 
a  terrible  experience.  We  started  on  a  twenty-four 
hours'  drive  without  a  stoppage,  without  a  crumb  of 
bread  or  a  drop  of  water.  We  drove  through  Milan 
at  8.30  in  the  morning,  and  after  leaving  it  we  got  a 
magnificent  view  of  the  Alps,  and  had  a  very  trouble- 
some frontier.  At  last  we  came  to  Turin.  We  went 
on  in  a  train  with  a  diligence  on  it,  and  arrived  at  Susa, 
our  last  Italian  town.  Here  the  diligence  was  taken  off 
the  train.  We  had  fourteen  mules  and  two  horses,  and 
began  to  ascend  Mont  Cenis.  These  were  the  days 
when  there  were  no  trains  there.  Some  of  us  with  the 
conductor  climbed  up  the  shorter  cuts  (like  ascending 
a  chimney)  until  dark,  and  met  the  diligence.  We 

had  a  splendid  view.     But  what  a  night !     The  snow 

117 


us      Ube  IRomance  of  Ssabel  Xaog  JBurton 

in  some  places  was  twenty  feet  deep,  and  the  wind  and 
sleet  seemed  as  if  they  would  sweep  us  over  ;  it  was 
wild  and  awful,  one  vast  snow  scene,  and  the  scenery 
magnificent.  At  midnight  we  came  to  the  top  ;  but 
here  was  the  worst  part,  where  the  smaller  road  begins. 
Here,  as  before,  we  only  went  at  a  foot's  pace,  and  the 
horses  could  hardly  stand.  The  men  kept  tumbling 
off,  the  vehicle  was  half  buried  in  the  snow,  there  were 
drifts  every  few  paces,  and  we  had  to  be  cut  out.  At 
Lans  le  Bourg  at  one  o'clock  we  stopped,  and  they 
gave  us  some  bad  soup,  for  which  we  gratefully  paid 
four  francs.  The  few  travellers  were  ascending  and 
descending,  asking  all  sorts  of  questions.  We  tried  to 
sleep,  but  ever  and  anon  some  accident  happened  to 
wake  us.  Every  here  and  there  we  tried  to  knock 
somebody  up  for  assistance  ;  but  it  appeared  to  me  as 
if  most  of  the  houses  of  refuge  were  shut  up,  thinking 
that  nobody  would  be  mad  enough  to  travel  in  such 
weather.  We  were  so  tired  that  it  seemed  as  if  the 
horses  were  wandering  about,  not  knowing  where  they 
were  going  to.  Everything  tumbled  about  most  un- 
comfortably in  a  snowy,  dreamy  state  of  confusion. 
Some  of  the  men  roared  with  laughter  at  one  of  the 
postilions  sprawling  off  his  horse  into  the  snow,  and 
floundering  about  without  being  able  to  get  up  again. 
Things  went  on  like  that  till  7  a.m.,  when  we  pulled  up 
at  the  station,  St.  Jean  de  Marienne,  where  we  ought  to 
have  caught  the  6  a.m.  train,  but  it  was  gone  ;  so  there 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  remain  for  the  10.20,  and  get 
a  good  breakfast.  We  took  the  10.20  train,  and  arrived 
at  1 2. 20  at  Chambery.  Here  a  civil  man  convinced  us 


Continental  trout:  Switserlanb        119 

that  we  had  to  choose  between  two  disagreeables  ;  so  we 
took  the  lesser,  remained  at  Chambery  till  five  o'clock, 
and  then  started  by  diligence,  and  (what  we  did  not 
know)  tired  horses. 

At  midnight,  when  body  and  soul  were  worn  out 
(we  had  not  had  our  clothes  off  for  three  days  and 
nights,  hardly  any  food  or  other  necessities;  we  had 
been  sitting  with  our  knees  up  to  our  chins  in  that 
blessed  coupe,  which  was  like  a  chimney-piece  big 
enough  for  two,  the  windows  close  to  our  faces) — 
well,  I  say,  when  body  and  soul  were  worn  out,  they 
shot  us  down  like  so  much  rubbish  at  a  miserable 
inn  at  Annecj-  at  midnight,  and  swore  they  would  go 
no  farther.  My  brother-in-law  stuck  to  his  place,  and 
refused  to  move  till  we  had  got  another  diligence 
and  fresh  horses ;  so  seeing  there  was  no  help  for 
it,  they  did  get  them,  and  transferred  our  baggage. 
Then  we  took  our  places  and  drove  off.  The  road  was 
nearly  impassable  ;  the  driver  frequently  stopped  at 
places  to  entreat  that  they  would  give  him  more  horses, 
but  all  the  inns  were  shut  up  and  asleep,  and  nobody 
cared  to  hear  him,  so  we  lost  half  an  hour  every  here 
and  there.  Morning  came,  but  we  stuck  again,  and 
were  not  near  to  the  end  of  our  journey.  We  turned 
into  an  inn,  where  we  got  some  chocolate,  and  sat  round 
a  stove  with  the  peasants,  who  chaffed  our  driver,  his 
exploits,  and  his  poor  horses.  That  morning  we  passed 
an  exquisite  bridge  over  a  chasm,  of  which  I  would  give 
worlds  to  have  a  photograph.  One  seemed  suspended 
between  heaven  and  earth.  I  learnt  afterwards  that 
my  bridge  is  between  Crusie-Caille  ;  it  is  636  feet  long, 


i2o      TTbc  TRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

and  656  above  the  stream.  The  old  road  winds  be- 
neath it ;  the  Sardinians  call  it  the  Ponte  Carlo  Aberto. 
A  few  more  difficulties,  and  at  10.30  a.m.,  Wednesday, 
April  7,  we  arrived  at  the  Hotel  des  Bergues,  Geneva. 
The  poor  horses  were  delighted  the  moment  they  saw 
Geneva  below,  and  put  on  a  spurt  of  themselves. 

The  Hotel  des  Bergues,  Geneva  (at  the  time  I  write), 
is  the  second  best  hotel  here ;  we  have  three  cheerful 
rooms  on  the  lake,  and  a  dull  table  d'hote  at  five  o'clock. 
The  lake  is  like  blue  crystal,  on  which  we  have  a 
five-ton  sailing-boat;  the  sky  without  a  cloud;  the 
weather  like  May.  The  nights  are  exquisite.  The 
peasants  are  ugly  ;  they  wear  big  hats,  and  speak  bad 
French.  It  is  a  terrible  place  for  stomach-ache,  owing 
to  the  mountain  water.  The  religion  is  a  contrast  to 
Italy — little  and  good.  As  I  am  Number  Three  of 
our  party,  I  have  had  all  along  to  make  my  own  life 
and  never  be  in  the  way  of  the  married  couple.  We 
arrived  here  in  time  for  the  railway  fete ;  there  were 
flags  and  feux  de  joie,  bands,  and  a  magnificent  peasant 
ball.  Our  Minister  for  Switzerland,  whose  name  was 
Gordon,  came  for  the/<?/£  (the  French  Minister  refused). 
He  dined  here,  spent  the  evening  with  us,  and  took  us 
to  the  ball.  The  Union  Jack  floated  at  our  windows 
in  his  honour.  A  pretty  place  Geneva,  but  very  dull. 
The  spring  begins  to  show  itself  in  the  trees  and 
hedges.  I  long  for  the  other  side  of  the  lake.  We 
walk  and  sail  a  great  deal. 

I  have  not  heard  a  word  from  Richard,  and  I  am 
waiting  like  Patience  on  a  monument  in  grand  expecta- 
tion of  what  the  few  months  may  bring,  relying  on 


Continental  Trout :  Switserlanfc        121 

his  sister  having  told  me  that  he  will  be  home  this 
summer,  when  I  feel  that  something  decisive  will  take 
place.  This  day  I  have  had  an  offer  from  an  American, 
polished,  handsome,  fifty  years  of  age,  a  widower,  with 
,£300,000  made  in  California  ;  but  there  is  only  one 
man  in  the  world  who  could  be  master  of  such  a  spirit 
as  mine.  People  may  love  (as  it  is  called)  a  thousand 
times,  but  the  real  feu  sacre  only  burns  once  in  one's 
life.  Perhaps  some  feel  more  than  others  ;  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  this  love  is  the  grandest  thing  in  this 
nether  world,  and  worth  all  the  rest  put  together.  If 
I  succeed,  I  shall  know  how  to  prove  myself  worthy 
of  it.  If  any  woman  wants  to  know  what  this  feu  sacre 
means,  let  her  ascertain  whether  she  loves  fully  and 
truly  with  brain,  heart,  and  passion.  If  one  iota  is 
wanting  in  the  balance  of  any  of  these  three  factors, 
let  her  cast  her  love  aside  as  a  spurious  article — she 
will  love  again ;  but  if  the  investigation  is  satis- 
factory, let  her  hold  it  fast,  and  let  nothing  take  it 
from  her.  For  let  her  rest  assured  love  is  the  one 
bright  vision  Heaven  sends  us  in  this  wild,  desolate, 
busy,  selfish  earth  to  cheer  us  on  to  the  goal. 

My  American  Croesus  is  not  my  only  chance.  A 
Russian  general  here,  a  man  of  about  forty  years,  with 
loads  of  decorations,  who  knows  many  languages,  is 
a  musician,  and  writes,  has  made  me  an  offer.  He  is  a 
man  of  family,  has  nine  chateaux,  and  half  a  million 
of  francs  income.  He  saw  me  at  the  altar  of  the 
Madonna,  Genoa,  two  months  ago.  He  tells  me  he  fell 
as  much  in  love  with  me  as  if  he  were  a  boy  of  fifteen. 
He  followed  me,  changed  his  hotel  to  come  here, 


i22       TTbc  Komance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

came  to  dinner,  and  took  the  room  next  to  me.  He 
serenades  me  on  the  violin  at  6  a.m.  and  1 1  p.m.  and 
at  7  a.m.  He  sent  me  a  bouquet  and  a  basket  of  fruit, 
and  a  letter  of  about  six  pages  long  to  tell  me  that  the 
Tsar  is  a  great  man,  that  he  (the  general)  has  bled  for 
his  country,  and  that  if  I  will  marry  him — "  Que  je  serai 
dans  ses  bras  "  (what  a  temptation!)  "  et  qu'il  me  fera  la 
deesse  du  pays."  I  refused  him  of  course. 

On  June  10,  when  we  were  in  bed  at  one  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  all  the  steamers  set  up  a  peal.  I,  who  was 
lying  awake,  rushed  to  the  window,  and  then  called  up 
the  others.  We  looked  out,  and  saw  that  apparently 
the  back  of  our  hotel  and  the  whole  Quartier  des 
Bergues  was  in  flames.  We  gave  the  alarm  in  the 
house,  ran  down  the  corridors  to  arouse  everybody, 
and  then  to  our  rooms  to  put  on  what  we  could,  collect 
a  few  treasures  and  our  animals.  I  took  the  bullfinch 
(Toby)  and  Richard's  picture,  the  Pigotts  took  each 
a  dog,  and  down  we  cut.  By  this  time  thousands  of 
people  were  running  to  the  rescue,  every  bell  in  the 
town  was  ringing,  the  whole  fire  brigade  turned  out, 
and  they  even  telegraphed  to  the  borders  of  France  to 
send  down  reinforcements.  Dozens  of  engines  were 
at  work,  and  we  soon  learnt  that  our  hotel  was  not  on 
fire,  but  that  the  fire  was  so  extensive  they  could  scarcely 
distinguish  what  was  on  fire  and  what  was  not.  In  a 
street  at  the  back  of  us  nine  houses  were  burning, 
a  cafe,  and  an  entrepot  of  inflammables ;  and  the 
pompiers  said  that  if  we  had  a  north-east  wind  in- 
stead of  a  south-west  one,  nothing  could  have  saved 
our  whole  quartier  from  destruction.  Every  soul  in 


Continental  Uout:  Switjerlanfc        123 

Geneva  was  there,  and  the  roofs  of  the  houses  were 
crowded  ;  and  we  went  up  on  the  roof  of  the  hotel  to 
see  the  wonderful  sight.  The  fire  brigade  was  on  the 
ground  for  thirty  hours.  They  could  do  nothing  for 
the  houses  already  on  fire,  but  only  prevent  its  spread- 
ing by  playing  on  the  surrounding  ones,  which  were 
red-hot,  as  was  the  back  of  our  hotel.  Fresh  firemen 
and  engines  arrived  from  France.  Among  the  animals 
destroyed  were  one  horse  and  two  cows,  some  sheep, 
and  some  goats,  in  their  sheds.  A  cage  of  birds  fell 
and  opened,  and  the  poor  little  things  escaped,  but  in 
their  fright  flew  about  in  the  flames,  A  baby,  whom 
the  mother  forgot  in  its  bed  (most  unnatural),  and  two 
men  were  killed  :  one  was  crushed  by  the  falling  roof, 
and  the  other  burned.  Two  firemen  lost  their  lives  : 
one  in  trying  to  save  a  woman  (God  bless  him !),  in 
which  he  succeeded,  but  fell  in  the  flames  himself; 
another  was  mortally  burnt ;  and  also  two  persons 
were  lost  whose  bodies  could  never  be  found.  It 
appeared  that  a  Frenchman  had  a  quarrel  in  the 
cafe,  and  out  of  spite  went  out  and  contrived  to  set 
it  alight.  The  populace  say  (he  is  caught  and  in 
prison)  that  they  will  lynch  him,  and  burn  him  at 
the  stake.  The  loss  of  property  is  great.  The  flames 
arose  above  the  whole  town,  and  seemed  to  lick  the 
whole  quartier.  It  was  a  dark  night,  and  everybody 
was  in  deshabille  from  their  beds,  and  there  was  a 
horrible  smell  of  burnt  flesh. 

We  started  on  July  i,  a  large  and  merry  party, 
from  Geneva  one  beautiful  morning  at  the  top  of 
the  diligence,  and  drove  through  an  English-looking 


124      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

country  to  Sallenches.  Here  we  took  some  vehicles 
that  ought  to  have  been  built  in  the  year  I  B.C.,  which 
shook  my  sister  quite  ill ;  but  we  who  could  walk  much 
preferred  doing  so,  as  well  for  ease  as  for  seeing  the 
scenery,  to  which  no  pen  of  mine  could  ever  do  justice. 
We  arrived  at  Chamounix  in  the  evening,  bathed  and 
dined,  and  took  a  moonlight  stroll  through  the  town 
and  valley.  Chamounix  is  the  second  thing  that  has 
never  disappointed  me.  I  look  around,  and  as  far  as 
my  eye  can  stretch  up  and  down  the  valley  are  ranges 
of  grand  mountains,  covered  with  firs,  Alpine  roses,  and 
wild  rhododendrons,  and  above  these  splendid  peaks, 
some  covered  with  snow,  almost  overhanging  us,  and 
standing  out  in  bold  relief  against  the  bluest  of  skies. 
I  note  it  all — the  peaceful  hamlet  in  the  vale  at  the 
foot  of  Mont  Blanc,  the  church  spire  distinct  against 
that  background  of  firs  on  the  opposite  mountain- 
side, the  Orne  rushing  through  the  town,  the  balconies 
and  little  gardens,  the  valley  dotted  with  chalets,  the 
Glacier  du  Boisson  and  Mer  de  Glace  sparkling  in 
the  sun.  How  glorious  it  is ! 

We  had  to  start  next  morning  at  daybreak  before  the 
sun  should  become  too  hot.  We  dressed  in  little  thick 
boots,  red  petticoats  that  we  might  see  each  other  at 
a  distance,  brown  Holland  jackets  and  big  hats,  a  pike 
and  a  mule  and  a  guide  each,  besides  other  guides.  At 
first  the  mule  appears  to  step  like  an  ostrich,  and  you 
think  of  your  mount  at  home,  and  you  tremble  as  you 
see  the  places  he  has  to  go  up,  or,  worse,  to  go  down. 
In  time  you  arrive  at  the  top  of  the  Flegere.  From 
here  you  see  five  glaciers,  the  best  view  of  Mont  Blanc 


Continental  trout :  Switserlanfc        125 

and  other  peaks  too  numerous  to  mention.  We  met 
some  pleasant  people,  dined  together  at  the  chalet ,  and 
drew  caricatures  in  the  travellers'  book.  One  or  two 
of  us  went  up  as  far  as  the  Grands  Mulcts  without 
guides,  slept  there,  and  descended  early,  where  we 
picked  up  our  party.  In  the  descent  we  walked,  and 
some  of  the  mules  ran  away.  Not  finding  ourselves 
quite  pumped  by  the  descent,  we  proposed  ascending  to 
the  Chapeau  the  opposite  side,  to  look  at  the  Mer  de 
Glace,  which  we  did;  and  as  we  were  mounting  we  had 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  an  avalanche  and  some  smaller 
falls.  We  were  joined  by  a  party  of  seven  jolly 
Scotch  girls,  and  we  descended  with  them.  We  were 
very  tired. 

Our  next  excursion  was  to  Montanvert,  which  ascent 
was  most  magnificent.  The  lower  part  of  the  moun- 
tain is  a  garden  of  wild  flowers,  roses,  and  firs,  and 
between  the  mountains  stood  out  wondrous  peaks. 
Against  the  sky  was  the  Aiguille  Verte,  leaning  as 
much  over  as  the  Campanile  at  Pisa.  It  is  wonderful 
to  think  of  the  commotion  there  must  have  been  when 
these  immense  masses  of  rock  were  scattered  there  by 
the  convulsions  of  Nature,  and  the  trees  were  crushed. 
At  Montanvert  we  fed,  and  were  joined  by  others  from 
the  Mer  de  Glace.  Here  those  who  had  weak  heads 
went  back,  and  those  who  feared  not  nor  cared  not 
went  on.  Every  lady  had  her  guide  and  alpenstock, 
every  man  had  his  alpenstock,  and  all  of  us  were 
strapped  round  our  waists  to  hold  on  to  each  other.  A 
little  cannon  was  fired  to  tell  us  the  echo  and  announce 
our  start.  The  first  part  was  easy  enough,  and  a  man 


"Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

with  a  hatchet  in  advance  cut  us  footsteps.  (Albert 
Smith  has  opened  this  passage  within  five  years.) 
Here  and  there  is  a  stream  of  water,  so  pure  one  might 
fancy  it  to  be  melted  diamonds.  Thousands  of  chasms 
in  the  ice,  five  hundred  or  more  feet  deep,  of  a  beauti- 
ful blue  colour,  and  a  torrent  beneath,  had  to  be  passed 
by  a  plank  thrown  across.  What  is  a  precipice  to-day  is 
closed  up  to-morrow  by  the  constant  movement  of  the 
ice.  Take  the  tout  ensemble,  it  gives  you  the  idea  of 
a  rebellious  sea  that  had  dared  to  run  mountains  high, 
in  defiance  of  its  Creator,  who  had  struck  it  (while  in 
motion)  into  ice.  Here  and  there  came  a  furious  water- 
fall or  torrent ;  a  plank  was  then  thrown  across  in  a 
safe  part.  Once  I  slipped,  and  my  legs  fell  in,  and  my 
alpenstock  ;  but  I  clung  to  the  stump  till  hauled  up. 
Then  came  the  Mauvais  Pas.  You  descend  the  side  of 
a  precipice  by  holes  cut  for  your  feet,  and  let  yourself 
down  by  a  rope.  If  one  has  got  a  good  head,  it  is 
worth  while  looking  down.  Hamlets  look  like  a  set  of 
tea-things,  men  (if  seen  at  all)  like  ants  beneath  one  ; 
and  how  glorious !  one  is  suspended  between  heaven 
and  earth,  and  one's  immortal  part  soars  higher  than 
the  prison  carcase  can  !  As  one  loves  to  feel  one's  own 
nothingness  by  the  side  of  the  man  to  whom  one  has 
given  one's  heart,  so  does  this  feeling  (the  best  we  own) 
increase  in  magnitude  when  it  relates  to  God.  He 
holds  you  there,  He  guards  against  that  false  step  which 
would  dash  you  to  pieces,  and  gives  you  the  power  of 
brain  to  look  below,  around,  and  upwards,  to  wonder 
and  to  thank.  I  think  this  was  the  most  intense 
excitement  of  its  sort  that  I  had  felt  in  my  girl 


Continental  Hour:  Swftaerlanfc        127 

travelling  life.      At   last   we  arrived  at  the  Chapeau, 
and  descended  the  same  mountain  as  yesterday. 

The  next  day  we  proposed  ascending  the  Glacier 
du  Boisson,  and  reascending  Mont  Blanc  for  a  few  hours ; 
but  some  of  our  party  were  anxious  to  get  home,  so 
we  ordered  some  rackety  vehicles  for  Argentieres  next 
morning,  and  there  the  strong  betook  themselves  to 
their  legs  and  alpenstocks,  and  the  weak  to  mules. 
We  strolled  gaily  along,  making  wreaths  of  wild 
flowers  for  our  hats,  singing  the  Ranz  des  Vaches 
and  all  that,  though  still  in  Savoy,  and  we  mounted 
the  Col  de  Balme.  This  is  one  of  the  darkest  and 
sublimest  views  imaginable.  On  one  side  you  look  down 
the  valley  of  Chamounix  and  the  Savoy  Mountains  ; 
the  Col  seems  like  a  high  barrier  with  one  hut  on  it. 
On  the  other  side  you  look  over  the  Bernese  Alps, 
and  you  see  a  spectacle  not  of  everyday  occurrence. 
Turn  to  Switzerland,  all  is  sunshiny,  bright,  and  gay  ; 
turn  to  Savoy,  a  thunder-storm  is  rolling  along  the 
valley  beneath,  and  you  stand  there  on  the  Col  in 
winter,  in  snow,  shivering,  hail,  wind,  and  sleet  driving 
in  your  face.  You  see  on  one  side,  half  a  mile  below, 
autumn  ;  on  the  other  spring,  with  buttercups,  daisies 
and  all  sorts  of  wild  flowers,  and  forsooth  the  cuckoo ; 
and  at  the  bottom  of  both  valleys  is  summer,  bright  or 
stormy.  At  this  place  the  ruffian  who  keeps  the  hut 
makes  you  pay  twenty-eight  francs  for  a  slice  of  ham, 
and  you  come  out  rather  amused  at  the  people  who 
are  swearing  on  that  account.  Some  delicate  ladies  are 
in  semi-hysterics  at  the  storm,  or  the  black,  frowning 
spot  on  which  we  find  ourselves,  and  are  rushing  about, 


128      ftbe  -Romance  of  Ssabel  Xabg  JSurton 

making  tender  inquiries  after  each  other's  sensitive 
feelings.  After  an  hour's  rest  we  start,  the  weak  ones 
for  Martigny,  the  strong  by  a  steep  path  in  the  moun- 
tains, which  brings  us  after  a  couple  of  hours  to  spring. 
But  stop  awhile  in  winter.  A  black  range  of  mountains 
dark  and  desolate  are  dressed  in  thunder-clouds.  You 
feel  awed,  yet  you  would  rather  see  it  so  than  in 
sunshine.  A  small  bit  of  table-land  is  on  the  side ; 
it  makes  you  think  of  an  exile  in  Siberia  or  Dante's 
Damned  Soul  in  a  Hell  of  Snow.  We  were  all  silent. 
No  doubt  we  all  made  our  reflections;  and  mine  ran 
thus  : 

"If  an  angel  from  heaven  came  from  Almighty 
God,  and  told  you  that  Richard  was  condemned  to  be 
chained  on  that  plateau  for  a  hundred  years  in  expia- 
tion of  his  sins  before  he  could  enter  heaven,  and 
gave  you  the  choice  between  sharing  his  exile  with 
him  or  a  throne  in  the  world  beneath,  which  would 
you  choose  ? " 

My  answer  did  not  keep  me  long  in  suspense  ;  it 
came  in  this  form  : 

"  A  throne  would  be  exile  without  him,  and  exile  with 
him  a  home  !  " 

We  reached  spring,  and  passed  the  chalets  where 
Gruyere  cheese  is  made  ;  and  I  stopped  the  herdsman, 
and  took  a  lesson  in  the  Ranz  des  Vaches  amidst 
much  laughter,  and  to  the  evident  amusement  of  a 
cuckoo,  who  chimed  in.  The  descent  of  the  Tete  Noir 
is  the  most  beautiful  thing  we  have  seen  ;  at  any  rate, 
it  is  the  most  graven  on  my  memory.  It  is  down  the 
side  of  magnificently  wooded  mountains,  with  bridges 


Continental  Uouc:  Switserlanfc        129 

of  a  primitive  kind,  overhanging  precipices,  and  looks 
into  the  dark  valley,  part  of  which  never  sees  the  sun. 
Here  we  sang  snatches  of  Linda  de  Chamounix  ;  the 
scenery  reminds  one  of  it,  and  comes  up  to,  or  even 
surpasses,  all  that  I  have  read  or  thought.  In  one 
place  we  came  to  an  immense  rock  that  had  fallen, 
and  was  just  on  the  balance  over  a  precipice,  and  there 
it  has  hung  for  hundreds  and  thousands  of  years.  The 
peasants  are  fait  soit  feu  sauvage,  and  they  dealt  us  out 
plainly  plenty  of  chaff,  as  they  gave  us  water,  in  the 
fond  belief  that  we  did  not  understand  French.  At 
length  we  reached  the  chalet  where  travellers  feed. 
After  dinner  at  nine  o'clock  the  moon  rose,  and  we 
went  through  a  splendid  forest  on  a  mountain-side,  with 
a  torrent  dashing  below.  I  lit  my  cigarette,  and  went 
a  little  ahead  of  my  party.  There  are  sacred  moments 
and  heavenly  scenes  I  cannot  share  with  the  common 
herd.  There  was  only  one  voice  which  I  could  have 
borne  to  break  the  silence,  and  that,  like  heaven,  was  so 
far  off  as  to  be  like  a  fable  now.  At  length  we  arrived 
at  a  hut  at  the  top  of  the  Mont  Forclaz,  a  hut  where  we 
must  have  our  passport  vised — why,  I  do  not  know,  as 
we  have  long  since  been  in  Switzerland.  The  gendarme 
grumbled  something  about  "eccentric  English  who 
scale  the  mountains  in  the  night."  A  hint  to  be  quick 
is  all  he  gets,  and  we  descend.  Now  we  were  so  tired 
that  we  mounted  our  mules  on  the  assurance  that  it 
would  rest  us  ;  but  such  a  descent  I  should  never  care 
to  do  again.  The  road  was  steep  and  unfinished ;  the 
moon  was  under  a  cloud ;  there  were  precipices  on 
each  side.  The  step  of  the  mule  sends  one  upon  a 
VOL.  i.  9 


i3o      tlbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  %aos  JBurton 

narrow,  hard  saddle,  bumping  one  moment  against  the 
pommels,  and  the  next  on  to  the  baggage  here  and 
there.  There  is  a  roll  over  a  loose  stone  ;  but  the 
clever  mule,  snuffing  and  pawing  its  way,  nimbly  puts 
its  feet  together,  and  slides  down  a  slab  of  rock.  My 
companions  got  down  and  walked,  tired  as  they  were. 
I  really  could  not ;  and  seeing  the  mule  was  so  much 
cleverer  than  myself,  I  knotted  the  bridle  and  threw  it 
on  his  back,  and  in  the  dark  put  my  leg  over  the  other 
side,  and  rode  down  straddle  like  a  man,  half  an  hour 
in  advance  of  the  rest.  They  said  there  were  wolves 
on  these  mountains,  but  I  did  not  see  or  hear  any.  I 
had  only  my  pike  to  defend  myself  with,  and  should 
have  been  in  an  awful  fright  had  I  come  across  a  wolf. 
At  midnight  I  reached  the  hotel  at  Martigny,  and  went 
to  bed. 

Our  next  move  was  to  charter  a  carriage  that  would 
hold  us  all  inside  and  out.  We  had  a  splendid  drive 
through  the  valley  of  the  Rhone  for  some  days,  and 
visited  many  places. 

I  was  immensely  impressed  by  Chillon  at  night. 
The  lake  lies  at  our  feet  like  a  huge  crystal  with  a 
broad  track  of  moonlight  on  it.  A  moment  ago  it 
was  fine  starlight,  and  now  the  moon  rises  behind  the 
Dent  du  Midi,  lighting  up  those  magnificent  moun- 
tains too  brightly  for  the  stars.  Vevey  is  asleep,  and 
no  noise  is  heard  save  the  splash  of  an  oar,  or  a  bit 
of  loose  rock  rolling  with  a  crash  down  the  mountain, 
or  the  buzz  of  some  insect  going  home  late.  A  bat 
flutters  near  my  face  now  and  then  ;  there  is  a  distant 
note  from  a  nightingale.  How  refreshing  is  the  so/t 


Continental  Uour:  Switserlanfc        131 

breeze  and  the  sweet  smell  of  the  hay  after  the  heat  of  the 
day  !  And  now  crossing  the  moonlight  track,  westward 
bound,  glides  a  lateen  sail  like  a  colossal  swan.  These  are 
the  scenes  that,  save  for  the  God  Who  made  them,  let  us 
know  we  are  alone  on  earth.  These  are  the  moments 
when  we  miss  the  hand  we  want  to  clasp  in  ours  without 
speaking,  and  yet  be  understood ;  but  my  familiar  spirit 
with  whom  I  could  share  these  moments  is  not  here. 

At  last  we  received  orders  to  be  ready  within  an 
hour's  notice  to  leave  Geneva  for  Lausanne,  and  we 
were  very  glad  to  obey.  We  had  been  too  long 
at  Geneva,  and  were  heartily  tired  of  it,  especially 
after  all  the  beautiful  things  we  had  seen.  It  was, 
however,  found  that  the  cutter  would  not  hold  us  all ; 
so  the  maid  and  I  went  with  the  baggage  and  animals, 
and  also  Mr.  Richard  Sykes  (who  brought  a  letter 
from  my  brother  Jack,  a  charming,  gentlemanly  boy  of 
twenty,  who  joined  us  for  a  few  weeks),  by  steamer 
to  Lausanne,  and  put  up  at  an  auberge  at  Ouchy  on 
the  water's  edge,  where  we  waited  the  sailing  party. 
Ouchy  consists  (1858)  of  a  humble  street  and  an  old- 
fashioned  inn  at  the  water's  edge  beneath  Lausanne. 
Here  we  took  three  little  rooms,  one  for  Mr.  Sykes,  one 
for  the  maid,  and  one  for  me,  which  was  half  bedroom, 
half  drawing-room,  with  a  good  view.  The  others 
arrived  in  a  few  days,  having  met  the  bise  and  had  to 
put  back  to  port.  Here  I  found  some  one  with  whom 
I  could  begin  German.  I  rowed  and  swam  a  great 
deal.  There  is  a  beautiful  country  for  driving  and 
walking,  and  our  chaloupe  is  now  at  anchor.  In  this 
last  we  were  able  to  make  excursions. 


i3«       Hbe  "Romance  of  -Jsabel  Xaog  Burton 

Among  other  places  we  ran  over  to  Evian,  twelve  miles 
across  on  the  opposite  coast.  There  were  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  people  in  the  hotel,  who  were  very  kind, 
and  made  a  great  fuss  with  us  ;  and  we  had  great  fun, 
though  they  had  great  difficulty  in  making  room  for 
us.  Mr.  Sykes  had  to  go  to  an  old  tower  in  the  garden, 
and  my  room  was  somewhere  under  the  tiles.  We 
often  gave  them  supper  and  cigarettes  at  11.30,  after 
music  and  impromptu  dancing  in  the  evening.  They 
were  all  vastly  kind  to  us,  and  when  we  went  away 
they  came  down  to  see  us  off  in  our  cutter. 

When  we  got  half-way  across  the  lake,  I  said  to  my 
brother-in-law,  "  Does  it  not  look  rather  like  wind  out 
there  ?  "  He  gave  a  short,  quick  command  at  once  to 
take  every  bit  of  sail  down  ;  but  we  knew  nothing  of 
lake-sailing,  though  we  knew  sea-sailing,  and  before  we 
had  got  it  half  down  the  wind  came  upon  us  like  a  wall, 
and  threw  us  on  our  side.  Our  bobstay  snapped  like 
sealing-wax,  our  mainsail  rent  like  ribbon,  our  foresail 
flew  away,  and  she  would  not  answer  her  helm,  and  we 
remained  in  the  trough  of  the  waves,  which  rose  awfully 
high.  We  then  cut  away  the  jib.  We  had  given  up 
all  hope,  having  beaten  about  for  a  long  time,  and  two 
of  us  had  been  in  the  water  for  three-quarters  of  an 
hour.  At  length  we  spied  five  boats  putting  out  to 
us,  and  we  were  truly  thankful.  It  appeared  that  the 
fishermen  had  refused  to  come  before,  because  they  were 
convinced  we  had  gone  down  long  ago,  and  all  the 
village  people  were  on  their  knees  praying  for  us.  We 
were  safely  towed  in  by  the  five  boats,  much  too  disabled 
to  help  ourselves,  and  the  cutter  was  smashed  to  pieces. 


Continental  Uour :  Switsei'lanfc        133 

We  rewarded  the  men  liberally,  got  some  brandy,  dried 
our  clothes,  and  went  back  by  the  next  steamer. 

There  was  a  grand  fete  at  Lausanne.  The  canteen 
of  Swiss  woodwork  was  decorated  with  branches,  and 
there  were  shooting-galleries,  the  usual  booths  and 
whirligigs,  a  very  respectable  vagrant  theatre,  a  dancing- 
circus  and  band.  The  streets  were  all  festooned  with 
garlands,  and  bits  of  sentiment  such  as,  "  Liberte  et 
patrie,"  "  Un  bras  pour  la  defendre,  un  coeur  pour 
Faimer,"  etc. 

It  was  cloudless  weather  that  evening  at  Lausanne, 
the  sky  clear  and  high,  the  country  fresh,  green,  and 
sweet-smelling.  The  mountains  surrounded  one-half 
the  lake  with  twenty  different  shades  at  the  setting 
sun,  from  palest  pink  on  the  snow-peaks  to  the  deepest 
purple .  on  the  rocks.  It  was  all  quiet  enough  after 
leaving  the  merriment  of  the  fair,  with  only  the  noise 
of  birds  or  bees,  and  the  sweet  smell  of  wild  flowers  in 
the  fresh  air.  Later  the  evening  star  came  out  in  the 
pale  sky,  and  the  glow-worms  shone  like  brilliants  in 
the  grass.  I  thought  of  Richard  in  that  far-away 
swamp  in  Central  Africa,  and  a  voiceless  prayer  rose 
to  my  lips.  I  wonder  if  he  too  is  thinking  of  me 
at  this  time?  And  as  I  thought  an  angelic  whisper 
knocked  at  my  heart  and  murmured,  "  Yes." 

After  we  had  been  at  Lausanne  some  time,  I  got 
ill.  I  was  fretting  because  there  was  no  news  at  all 
about  Richard ;  I  had  been  hoping  to  hear  from 
him  for  two  months.  I  had  enough  of  the  climate 
too.  I  had  a  habit  of  rowing  myself  out  a  little  way, 
undressing  in  the  boat,  jumping  in  for  a  swim,  climbing 


134      TTbc  IRomancc  ot  Isabel  Zaty?  JSurton 

back  into  the  boat,  and  rowing  ashore  ;  and  one  day  I 
was  too  hot,  and  I  just  had  the  strength  to  give  the  last 
pull  to  the  oar  ashore,  when  I  fainted.  There  were  no 
doctors,  no  medicines,  and  I  lay  ill  on  my  very  hard 
bed  with  a  dreadful  pain  in  my  side  for  three  weeks. 
But  I  was  too  strong  to  die  ;  and  one  day  somebody  got 
me  a  bottle  of  Kirschwasser,  and  drinking  it  in  small 
quantities  at  a  time  seemed  to  take  away  the  pain; 
but  I  was  very  pale  and  ill,  and  every  one  said  I  had 
rheumatic  fever.  We  were  all  three  more  or  less  ill,  and 
did  not  like  to  part  ;  but  it  was  a  necessity,  so  I  was 
sent  forward  with  twelve  pieces  of  baggage  and  sixteen 
napoleons  to  work  my  way  from  Ouchy  to  Honfleur, 
where  I  was  to  wait  for  my  brother-in-law  and  sister, 
Honfleur  being  a  quieter  place  than  Havre.  Poor 
Blanche  looked  so  worn  and  sad ! 

I  got  in  a  railway-carriage  by  myself,  and  asked  the 
guard  to  look  after  me  because  I  was  alone  ;  but  just 
before  the  train  started  he  put  in  a  man,  and  begged 
my  pardon,  saying  it  was  inevitable,  as  there  was  not  a 
place  in  any  other  carriage.  In  about  twenty  minutes 
the  man  began  to  make  horrible  faces  at  me,  and  I  was 
so  dreadfully  frightened  I  felt  I  must  speak ;  so  I 
said,  "  I  am  afraid  you  are  ill  "  ;  and  he  said,  "  Yes  ;  I 
am  very  sorry,  but  I  am  going  to  have  an  epileptic 
fit."  He  was  almost  immediately  black,  and  in  horrible 
contortions.  It  was  an  express  train.  There  was  no 
means  of  communicating  with  the  guard  (1858),  and 
there  was  no  use  in  screaming ;  so,  frightened  though 
I  was,  I  pulled  the  man  down  on  the  ground,  undid 
his  cravat,  and  loosened  all  about  his  neck.  I  had  no 


Continental  Hour :  Swttaetlano       135 

medicine  with  me,  except  a  quarter  of  a  bottle  of 
sweet  spirits  of  nitre,  which  I  was  taking  for  rheumatic 
fever.  I  poured  it  all  down  his  throat,  and  then  I 
covered  his  face  over  with  a  black  silk  handkerchief 
I  had  round  my  neck,  that  I  might  not  see  him,  and 
squeezed  myself  up  in  the  farthest  corner.  In  about 
twenty  minutes  he  came  to,  and  asked  me  how  long 
he  had  been  like  that.  I  told  him,  and  he  asked  me 
if  I  was  dreadfully  frightened,  and  I  said,  "  Yes."  He 
said,  "I  am  subject  to  these  fits,  but  they  generally 
last  much  longer  ;  this  has  been  very  slight."  So  I 
said,  "I  think  it  is  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  I  have 
put  about  three  ounces  of  spirits  of  nitre  down  your 
throat."  He  said,  "  Well,  I  think  it  must  have  done 
me  good,  because  I  feel  very  comfortable."  I  called 
the  guard  the  first  station  we  arrived  at,  told  him 
what  had  occurred,  and  begged  him  to  move  me  into 
a  carriage  with  other  people,  which  he  did.  I  never 
knew  anything  so  slow  as  the  trains  were;  and  at  the 
stations  there  seemed  no  one  to  help,  nor  to  tell  one 
where  anything  was.  I  got  two  seats  with  my  back  to 
the  engine,  so  that  I  could  lie  down.  The  heat  was 
intense.  The  carriage  was  crammed.  There  was  a 
ladylike  little  woman,  with  a  brawny  nurse  and  two  of 
the  worst-behaved  children  I  ever  saw.  They  fought, 
and  sang,  and  cried,  and  teased  my  bullfinch,  and 
kicked  my  shins,  and  trod  on  my  toes ;  but  the 
mother  was  too  nice  to  offend,  and  so  I  bore  it.  At 
Mac.cn  at  8  p.m.  we  stopped  to  sup  ;  and  then  I  felt 
I  could  bear  no  more  of  it,  so  I  begged  the  guard  to 
change  me  to  a  quiet  carriage,  and  he  put  me  in  with 


136      TTbe  Romance  of  Isabel  Zaog  JBurton 

two  gentlemanly  Spaniards.  There  was  plenty  of  room, 
and  we  had  a  quiet  night  enough,  only  one  of  them 
was  so  long  that  every  now  and  then  in  his  sleep  he 
put  his  feet  into  my  lap  or  on  the  birdcage. 

We  arrived  at  6  a.m.,  and  drove  for  at  least  an  hour 
to  the  Havre  station  in  the  pouring  rain.  Here  my 
troubles  began.  It  was  past  seven,  the  train  was  at  8.25  ; 
so  I  thought  I  had  time  to  get  a  little  breakfast  at  the 
cafe.  I  did  so,  and  returned.  The  porters  were  very 
rude  to  me,  and  refused  to  weigh  my  baggage,  saying  I 
was  too  late.  In  vain  I  entreated,  and  I  had  to  return 
to  my  cafe  and  sit  in  a  miserable  room  from  8  o'clock 
to  I  p.m.  I  drank  a  bottle  of  gingerbeer,  and  did  my 
accounts,  but  my  head  was  too  stupid  to  do  them 
properly  ;  so  with  the  idea  that  I  had  only  forty-eight 
francs  left,  I  had  taken  my  ticket  to  Havre,  but  not 
paid  the  baggage,  and  I  had  still  to  get  to  Honfleur.  I 
then  got  scared  with  fancying  I  had  lost  four  napoleons, 
and  sat  looking  at  my  purse  in  despair.  Then  I  discovered 
I  had  lost  a  bunch  of  keys,  that  the  turquoise  had  fallen 
out  of  my  ring,  that  I  had  broken  my  back  comb,  and 
left  behind  part  of  my  dressing-case.  Then  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  me  that  I  had  no  blessing  because  I  had 
not  said  my  morning  prayers ;  so  I  at  once  knelt  down, 
and  during  my  prayers  a  light  flashed  on  me  that  there 
were  five  napoleons  to  a  hundred  francs,  and  the  money 
was  right  to  a  farthing,  so  I  rose  with  a  thankful  heart 
heedless  of  smaller  evils.  I  took  the  one  o'clock  train, 
which  went  fast.  It  was  hot,  windy,  dusty,  crowded ;  but 
no  matter,  I  drove  straight  to  the  boat.  Alas  !  it  was 
gone,  and  I  had  only  a  few  francs.  There  was  nothing 


Continental  Uour:  Swftserlanfc        137 

for  it  but  to  go  to  the  hotel  opposite  the  boats,  and 
ask  for  a  room,  a  hot  bath,  some  tea  and  bread- 
and-butter  (I  had  been  out  thirty-six  hours  without 
rest).  I  was  on  board  the  first  boat,  which  steamed 
off"  at  a  quarter  to  seven  in  the  morning,  and  at 
eight  was  safely  housed  at  the  Hotel  d'Angleterre, 
Honfleur,  forty-eight  hours  after  leaving  Ouchy,  with 
three-ha'pence  in  my  pocket.  Unfortunately  at  Havre 
there  was  a  law  by  which  the  porters  were  not  obliged 
to  weigh  your  baggage  unless  you  came  half  an 
hour  before  the  time,  but  that  nobody  ever  did,  and 
they  would  not  dare  nor  think  of  refusing  a  French 
person  ;  but  because  I  was  an  English  girl,  and  alone, 
they  abused  their  power.  I  was  only  five  minutes 
after  time  ;  there  was  twenty-five  minutes  to  spare, 
and  they  were  rude  into  the  bargain.  They  are 
not  paid  by  Government  (1858),  and  there  is  no 
tariff".  They  follow  you  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  and 
say,  "  We  will  carry  your  baggage  if  you  pay  us, 
and  if  not  we  will  not."  My  purse  prevented  my 
being  very  free-handed ;  they  would  not  take  less 
than  a  franc  and  a  half,  and  slang  you  for  that ;  and 
I  spent  eighteen  francs  on  them  between  Lausanne  and 
Honfleur. 

Honfleur  is  a  horrid  place.  It  is  a  fishing  town,  con- 
taining about  ten  thousand  people  of  an  inferior  class, 
as  dull  as  the  grave,  no  society,  and,  still  worse,  not  the 
necessaries  of  life — the  only  good  things  are  the  fruit, 
the  sea,  and  country.  There  are  two  hotels,  which  in 
England  we  should  call  public-houses  ;  not  a  room  fit 
to  sleep  in,  so  I  have  had  a  bed  put  in  a  kind  of 


138      ttbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xao»  JBurton 

observatory  at  the  top  of  the  house.  I  can  shut  out  all, 
and  live  with  nature  and  my  books.  There  is  a  terrace, 
and  at  high  tide  the  sea  rolls  under  it,  and  at  a  stretch 
I  could  fancy  myself  on  board  a  ship  ;  but,  thank  God, 
I  am  getting  better. 

They  come  and  ask  you  what  you  would  like  for 
dinner  : 

"  Ce  que  vous  avez  a  la  maison  ;  je  ne  suis  pas 
difficile."  "  Nous  avons  tout  du  melon,  par  exemple — 
des  crevettes,"  etc. 

What  they  want  to  feed  me  on  here  are  melons 
and  water.  An  Englishman  came  the  other  day,  very 
hungry,  and  wanted  to  dine.  "  Voulez-vous  une  omelette, 
monsieur  ?  "  "  Damn  your  omelette  !  "  he  said  ;  "  I  want 
to  dine."  He  was  obliged  to  go.  The  servants  are 
one  remove  from  animals,  and  the  family  ditto,  except 
madame,  who  is  charming.  The  weather  is  beastly,  the 
sea  is  muddy,  the  sand  all  dirt;  there  is  not  a  piano  in 
the  town.  The  baths  are  half  an  hour  from  here,  and 
the  Basse  gents  are  excessively  sauvage.  But  even  in 
this  fifth-rate  society  I  found  a  grain  of  wheat  among  the 
chaff — a  Parisian  Spanish  woman,  the  wife  of  a  physician, 
here  for  her  child's  health,  very  spirituelle,  not  pretty, 
and  devoted  to  Paris.  We  smoke  and  read,  and  she 
gives  me  the  benefit  of  her  experience,  which  I  really 
think  I  had  better  have  been  without ;  but  she  is  a  jolly 
little  creature,  and  I  do  not  know  how  I  should  pass 
my  time  without  her. 

Blanche  and  my  brother-in-law  joined  me  at  Honfleur 
a  fortnight  after  my  arrival  ;  and  having  received  a 
draft  for  fresh  supplies,  we  determined  to  start  next 


Continental  ttout: :  Switserlanfc        139 

day.  We  had  a  delightful  trip  of  six  hours  up  the 
Seine  to  Rouen  ;  we  revisited  the  old  cathedral,  and 
walked  up  to  that  little  gem  Notre  Dame  de  bon 
Secours.  I  am  very  fond  of  Rouen ;  it  is  such  a  lovely 
place.  We  went  on  to  Dieppe,  and  had  a  calm  passage 
to  Southampton.  Once  more  I  was  in  England.  We 
went  straight  to  London,  and  home. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THEY  MEET  AGAIN 
(1858—1860) 

Allah  guard  a  true  lover,  who  strives  with   love 
And  hath  borne  the  torments  I  still  abide, 
And   seeing  me  bound   in  the  cage  with  mind 
Of  ruth   release  me  my  love  to  find. 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "  Arabian  Nights  "). 

WHILE  Isabel  was  touring  through  Italy  and 
Switzerland,  Burton  was  fighting  his  way 
through  the  Central  African  jungle  to  find  the  fabled 
lakes  beyond  the  Usagara  Mountains,  which  at  that 
time  the  eye  of  the  white  man  had  never  seen. 

It  is  necessary  to  give  a  brief  sketch  of  this  expedi- 
tion, and  of  the  difference  between  Burton  and  Speke 
which  arose  from  it,  because  these  things  influenced  to 
a  considerable  degree  Isabel's  after-life.  She  was  always 
defending  her  husband's  position  and  fighting  the  case 
of  Burton  versus  Speke. 

As  already  stated,  Burton  left  London  in  October, 
1856.  He  went  to  Bombay,  applied  for  Captain  Speke 
to  accompany  him  as  second  in  command  of  his  expedi- 
tion into  the  unknown  regions  of  Central  Africa,  and 

140 


flfceet  Bgain  141 

landed  at  Zanzibar  in  December.  The  Royal  Geo- 
graphical Society  had  obtained  for  him  a  grant  of 
,£1,000,  and  the  Court  of  Directors  of  the  East  India 
Company  had  given  him  two  years'  leave. 

On  June  26,  1857,  after  an  experimental  trip,  they  set 
out  in  earnest  on  their  journey  into  the  far  interior. 
Burton  was  handicapped  by  a  very  inadequate  force, 
and  he  had  to  make  his  way  through  hostile  savage 
tribes ;  yet  he  determined  to  risk  it,  and  in  eighteen 
days  achieved  the  first  stage  of  the  journey.  Despite 
sickness  and  every  imaginable  difficulty,  the  little  band 
arrived  at  K'hutu. 

Thence  they  marched  to  Zungomero,  a  pestilential 
Slough  of  Despond.  Here  they  rested  a  fortnight, 
and  then  began  the  ascent  of  the  Usagara  Mountains. 
They  managed  to  climb  to  the  frontier  of  the  second 
region,  or  Ghauts.  They  then  pushed  on,  up  and 
down  the  ranges  of  these  mountains,  sometimes  through 
the  dismal  jungle,  sometimes  through  marshy  swamps, 
sometimes  along  roads  strewn  with  corpses  and  victims 
of  loathsome  diseases,  tormented  always  by  insects  and 
reptiles,  and  trembling  with  ague,  with  swimming  heads, 
ears  deafened  by  weakness,  and  legs  that  would  scarcely 
support  them,  threatened  by  savages  without  and 
deserters  within,  until  at  last  they  reached  the  top 
of  the  third  and  westernmost  range  of  the  Usagara 
Mountains.  The  second  stage  of  the  journey  was 
accomplished. 

After  a  rest  they  went  through  the  fiery  heat  of  the 
Mdaburu  jungle,  where  they  were  much  troubled  by 
their  mutinous  porters.  At  last  they  entered  Kazeh. 


M*      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

The  Arabs  helped  them  here  (Burton  always  got  on 
well  with  Arabs),  and  they  rested  for  a  space.  On 
January  10,  1858,  they  reached  M'hali,  and  here 
Burton  was  smitten  by  partial  paralysis,  brought  on  by 
malaria ;  his  eyes  were  also  afflicted,  and  death  seemed 
imminent.  But  in  a  little  time  he  was  better,  and 
again  they  pushed  on  through  the  wilderness.  At  last, 
on  February  13,  1858,  just  when  they  were  in  despair, 
their  longing  eyes  were  gladdened  by  the  first  glimpse 
of  the  Lake  Tanganyika,  the  sea  of  Ujiji,  laying  like 
an  enchanted  lake  "  in  the  lap  of  the  mountains,  bask- 
ing in  the  gorgeous  tropical  sunshine." 

For  the  first  known  time  in  the  world's  history 
European  eyes  rested  on  this  loveliness.  It  is  only 
fair  therefore  to  remember  that  in  the  discovery  of 
Lake  Tanganyika  Burton  was  the  pioneer.  His  was 
the  brain  which  planned  and  commanded  the  expedition, 
and  it  was  he  who  first  achieved  with  inadequate  means 
and  insufficient  escort  what  Livingstone,  Cameron, 
Speke,  Grant,  Baker,  and  Stanley  achieved  later.  If  he 
had  possessed  their  advantages  of  men  and  money, 
what  might  he  not  have  done  ! 

At  Ujiji  they  rested  for  some  time  ;  they  had 
travelled  nine  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  had  taken 
more  than  seven  and  a  half  months  over  the  journey  on 
account  of  the  delay  arising  from  danger  and  illness. 
They  spent  a  month  cruising  about  the  lake,  which, 
however,  they  were  not  able  to  explore  thoroughly. 

On  May  28,  1858,  Burton  and  Speke  started  on  the 
homeward  route.  In  due  time  they  reached  Kazeh 
again.  Here,  Burton  being  ill,  and  Speke  not  being 


flfoeet  Haain  143 


able  to  get  on  with  the  Arabs,  who  abounded  at  Kazeh, 
it  was  decided  that  Burton  should  remain  at  Kazeh  to 
prepare  and  send  reports,  and  that  Speke  should  go  in 
search  of  the  unknown  lake  (now  called  Nyanza)  which 
the  merchants  had  told  them  was  some  sixteen  marches 
to  the  north.  So  Speke  set  out.  After  some  six  or 
seven  weeks  he  returned  to  Kazeh.  His  flying  trip 
had  led  him  to  the  northern  water,  which  he  found  to 
be  an  immense  lake  (Nyanza),  and  he  announced  that 
he  had  discovered  the  sources  of  the  White  Nile.  On 
this  point  Burton  was  sceptical,  and  from  this  arose 
a  controversy  upon  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  enter. 
There  were  probably  faults  on  both  sides.  The  differ- 
ence between  Burton  and  Speke  was  much  to  be 
regretted  ;  I  only  allude  to  it  here  because  it  influenced 
the  whole  of  Burton's  subsequent  career,  and  by  so 
doing  affected  also  that  of  his  wife. 

At  Kazeh  Burton  decided  that  they  must  return  to 
the  seacoast  by  the  way  they  came.  So  they  beat  their 
way  back  across  the  fiery  field  to  the  usual  accompani- 
ments of  quarrels,  mutinies,  and  desertions  among  the 
porters.  At  one  place  Speke  was  dangerously  ill, 
but  Burton  nursed  him  through.  They  recrossed  the 
Usagara  Mountains,  and  struggled  through  mud  and 
jungle,  and  at  last  caught  sight  of  the  sea.  They 
made  a  triumphal  entrance  to  Konduchi,  the  seaport 
•  village.  They  embarked  and  landed  in  Zanzibar  on 
March  4,  1859.  Here  Burton  wanted  to  get  fresh 
leave  of  absence  and  additional  funds  ;  but  the  evident 
desire  of  the  British  Consul  to  get  rid  of  him  (because 
he  was  too  friendly  with  the  Sultan),  and  the  impatience 


"Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

of  Speke  to  return  to  England,  caused  him  to  abandon 
the  idea.  Just  then  H.M.S.  Furious  arrived  at  Aden, 
and  passage  homeward  was  offered  to  both  of  them. 
Burton  was  too  ill  to  go  ;  but  Speke  went,  and  his  last 
words,  according  to  Burton,  were  :  "  Good-bye,  old 
fellow.  You  may  be  quite  sure  I  shall  not  go  up  to 
the  Royal  Geographical  Society  until  you  come  to  the 
fore  and  we  appear  together.  Make  your  mind  quite, 
easy  about  that." 

Nevertheless,  when  Burton  arrived  in  England  on 
May  21,  1859  (having  been  absent  two  years  and 
eight  months),  he  found  the  ground  cut  from  under 
his  feet.  Speke  had  arrived  in  London  twelve  days 
before,  and  the  day  after  his  arrival  had  called  at  the 
headquarters  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society,  told 
his  own  tale,  and  obtained  the  leadership  of  a  new 
expedition.  Burton,  who  had  originated  and  carried 
out  the  expedition,  found  himself  shelved,  neglected, 
and  thrust  aside  by  his  lieutenant,  who  claimed  and 
received  the  whole  credit  for  himself.  Moreover, 
Speke  had  spread  all  sorts  of  ugly — and  I  believe 
untrue — reports  about  Burton.  These  coming  on  top 
of  certain  other  rumours — also,  I  believe,  untrue — 
which  had  originated  in  India,1  were  only  too  readily 
believed.  When  Burton  got  home,  he  found  that  the 
Government  and  the  Royal  Geographical  Society 
regarded  him  with  disapproval,  and  society  looked 
askance  at  him.  Instead  of  being  honoured,  he  was 

1  Burton  alludes  to  this  prejudice  against  him  in  the  original 
(1886)  edition  of  his  Arabian  Nights,  "  Alf  Laylah  wa  Laylah," 
Terminal  Essay,  Section  D,  pp.  205,  206. 


fl&eet  Haain  145 

suspected  and  under  a  cloud.  One  may  imagine  how 
his  spirit  chafed  under  this  treatment.  He  was 
indeed  a  most  unlucky  man.  Yet  in  spite  of  the 
crowd  of  false  friends  and  open  enemies,  in  spite 
of  all  the  calumny  and  suspicion  and  injustice,  there 
was  one  heart  which  beat  true  to  him.  And  then 
it  was  that  Burton  proved  the  strength  of  a  woman's 
love. 

Isabel  had  been  back  in  England  from  her  Continental 
tour  just  a  year  when  Burton  came  home.  It  had 
been  a  terribly  anxious  year  for  her  ;  she  had  written 
to  him  regularly,  and  kept  him  well  posted  in  all  that 
was  going  on  ;  but  naturally  her  letters  only  reached 
him  at  intervals.  News  of  him  had  been  meagre  and 
infrequent,  and  there  were  long  periods  of  silence 
which  made  her  sick  at  heart  with  anxiety  and  dread. 
The  novelty  and  excitement  of  her  trip  abroad  had  to 
some  extent  diverted  her  mind,  but  when  she  came 
home  all  her  doubts  and  fears  returned  with  threefold 
force.  The  monotony  and  inaction  of  her  life  chafed 
her  active  spirit ;  the  lack  of  sympathy  and  the  want  of 
some  one  in  whom  she  could  confide  her  love  and  her 
sorrow  weighed  her  down.  It  was  a  sore  probation, 
and  in  her  trouble  she  turned,  as  it  was  her  nature  to 
turn,  to  the  consolations  of  her  religion.  In  the  Lent 
of  1859  she  went  into  a  Retreat  in  the  Convent  at 
Norwich,  and  strove  to  banish  worldly  thoughts.  She 
did  not  strive  in  vain,  as  the  following  extracts  from 
one  of  her  devotional  books,1  written  when  in  retreat, 
will  show. 

1  Lamed,  one  of  Lady  Burton's  books  of  private  devotion. 
VOL.    I.  IO 


146      Ibe  IRomance  of  Saabel  Xaog  burton 

€C  I  bewail  my  ordinary  existence — the  life  that  most 
girls  lead — going  out  into  society  and  belonging  to  the 
world. 

"  I  must  follow  the  ordinary  little  details  of  existence 
with  patient  endurance  of  suffering  and  resistance  of 
evil.  With  courage  I  must  fly  at  what  I  most  dislike 
— grasp  my  nettle.  There  is  good  to  be  cultivated, 
there  is  religion  to  be  uppermost ;  occupation  and 
family  cares  must  be  my  resources. 

"  And  why  must  I  do  this  ?  Other  girls  are  not 
desirous  of  doing  it.  Because  at  a  critical  moment  God 
snatched  me  from  the  world,  when  my  heart  bounded 
high  for  great  things,  and  I  was  hard  pressed  by 
temptation.  I  said  to  myself,  *  Why  has  He  called 
such  a  being  as  myself  into  existence  ? ' — seemingly  to 
no  purpose.  And  He  has  brought  me  to  this  quiet 
corner,  and  has  showed  me  in  a  spiritual  retreat  (like 
in  a  holy  lantern)  things  as  they  really  are  ;  He  has 
recalled  to  me  the  holiest  and  purest  of  my  childhood 
and  my  convent  days,  humbled  me,  and  then,  shutting 
out  that  view,  once  more  He  will  send  me  forth  to  act 
from  His  fresh  teaching.  He  seemed  to  say  to  me  : 
'  You  have  but  little  time  ;  a  long  life  is  but  eighty 
years  or  so — part  of  this  is  lost  in  childhood,  part  in  old 
age,  part  in  sleep.  How  few  are  the  strong,  mature 
years  wherein  to  lay  in  store  for  death — the  only 
store  you  can  carry  with  you  beyond  the  dreams  of 
life,  beyond  the  grave  !  You,  from  defects  in  your 
upbringing,  have  allowed  your  heart  to  go  before 
your  head  ;  hence  sharp  twinges  and  bitter  experience. 
These  faults  are  forgiven  you.  Now  enter  on  your 


/ifoeet  Hgatn  147 

mature  years  with  a  good  spirit,  and  remember  that  the 
same  excuses  will  not  serve  any  more.' 

"  With  these  reflections  I  saw  myself  as  an  atom  in 
this  vast  creation,  chosen  from  thousands  who  would 
have  served  Him  better,  and  brought  safely  through 
my  nine  months'  imprisonment  to  my  baptism.  On 
what  did  I  open  my  eyes  ?  Not  on  the  circle  of  a 
certain  few,  who  are  so  covered  with  riches,  honour, 
luxuries,  and  pleasures  as  to  have  their  Paradise  here. 
Not  amongst  the  dregs  of  the  unfortunate  people  who  are 
the  very  spawn  of  vice,  who  never  hear  a  good  word 
or  see  a  good  action,  who  do  not  know  that  there  is  a 
God  except  in  a  curse.  No  !  God  gave  me  everything; 
but  He  chose  a  middle  way  for  me,  and  each  blessing 
that  surrounded  me  was  immense  in  itself,  and  many 
were  combined.  Pure  blood  and  good  birth,  health, 
youth,  strength,  beauty,  talent,  natural  goodness — God 
and  Nature  gave  me  all,  and  the  Devil  and  I  spoiled 
the  gift.  Add  to  all  this  a  happy  home  and  good 
family,  education,  society,  religion,  and  the  true  Church 
of  Christ.  He  took  from  me  the  riches  and  the 
worldly  success  that  might  have  damned  me  ;  and 
having  purified  me,  He  sent  me  back  only  a  sufficiency 
for  needs  and  comforts.  He  gave  me  a  noble  incen- 
tive to  good  in  the  immense  power  of  affection  I  have 
within  me,  which  I  may  misuse,  but  not  deprave  or 
lose  ;  this  power  is  as  fresh  as  in  my  childhood,  but 
saddened  by  experience.  He  preserves  me  from  the 
multitude  of  hourly  evils  which  I  cannot  see ;  nay,  more, 
He  seems  to  watch  every  trifle  to  meet  my  needs  and 
wants.  He  scarcely  lets  the  wind  visit  me  too  roughly ; 


MS      TTbe  "Romance  of  Ssa&el  Xabs  JSurton 

He  almost  takes  up  the  instruments  He  gave  me,  and 
works  Himself.  He  seems  to  say,  *  Toil  for  one  short 
day,  and  in  the  evening  come  to  Me  for  your  reward.' 
He  appointed  to  me,  as  to  every  one,  an  angel  to 
protect  me  ;  He  has  shown  me  the  flowery  paths  that 
lead  down — down  to  the  Devil  and  Hell — and  the 
rugged  path  that  leads  upward  to  Himself  and  Heaven. 
Shall  I  refuse  to  climb  over  my  petty  trials  for  this 
short  time,  when  He  is  so  merciful,  when  He  has 
died  for  me  ?  " 

Isabel  came  out  of  her  Retreat  on  Easter  Day,  and 
after  visiting  some  friends  for  a  few  weeks  returned  to 
her  parents'  home  in  London.  Here  she  was  greeted 
with  the  news  that  Speke  had  come  home  alone.  The 
air  was  full  of  Speke,  and  the  rumour  reached  her  ears 
that  Burton  was  staying  on  in  Zanzibar  in  the  hope  of 
being  allowed  to  return  to  Africa.  A  sense  of  despair 
seized  her  ;  and  just  as  she  was  thinking  whether  she 
would  not  return  to  the  Convent  and  become  a  Sister 
of  Charity,  she  received  six  lines  in  a  well-known  hand 
by  post  from  Zanzibar — no  letter.  This  communica- 
tion was  long  past  date,  and  evidently  had  been  slow 
in  coming  : 

tro  Isabel. 

That  brow  which  rose  before  my  sight, 
As  on  the  palmer's  holy  shrine ; 
Those  eyes— my  life  was  in  their  light; 
Those  lips — my  sacramental  wine; 
That  voice  whose  flow  was  wont  to  seem 
The  music  of  an  exile's  dream. 

She  knew  then  it  was  all  right. 


/l&eet  Boatn  149 

Two  days  later  she  read  in  the  paper  that  Burton 
would  soon  arrive.  She  writes  in  her  diary: 

"  {May  21. — I  feel  strange,  frightened,  sick,  stupefied, 
dying  to  see  him,  and  yet  inclined  to  run  away,  lest, 
after  all  I  have  suffered  and  longed  for,  I  should  have 
to  bear  more." 

But  she  did  not  run  away.  And  here  we  leave  her 
to  tell  her  own  tale. 

On  May  22  I  chanced  to  call  upon  a  friend.  I  was 
told  she  had  gone  out,  but  would  be  in  to  tea,  and 
was  asked  if  I  would  wait.  I  said,  "  Yes."  In  a  few 
minutes  another  ring  came  to  the  door,  and  another 
visitor  was  also  asked  to  wait.  A  voice  that  thrilled 
me  through  and  through  came  up  the  stairs,  saying,  "  I 
want  Miss  Arundell's  address."  The  door  opened,  I 
turned  round,  and  judge  of  my  feelings  when  I  beheld 
Richard  !  For  an  instant  we  both  stood  dazed.  I  felt 
so  intensely,  that  I  fancied  he  must  hear  my  heart  beat, 
and  see  how  every  nerve  was  overtaxed.  We  rushed 
into  each  other's  arms.  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe 
the  joy  of  that  moment.  He  had  landed  the  day 
before,  and  come  to  London,  and  had  called  here  to 
know  where  I  was  living,  where  to  find  me.  No  one 
will  wonder  when  I  say  that  we  forgot  all  about  my 
hostess  and  her  tea.  We  went  downstairs,  and  Richard 
called  a  cab,  and  he  put  me  in  and  told  the  man  to 
drive  about — anywhere.  He  put  his  arm  round  my 
waist,  and  I  put  my  head  on  his  shoulder.  I  felt  quite 
stunned  ;  I  could  not  speak  or  move,  but  felt  like  a 
person  coming  to  after  a  fainting  fit  or  a  dream ;  it  was 


iso      ZCbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcp  Burton 

• 

acute  pain,  and  for  the  first  half-hour  I  found  no  relief. 
I  would  have  given  worlds  for  tears,  but  none  came. 
But  it  was  absolute  content,  such  as  I  fancy  people 
must  feel  in  the  first  few  moments  after  the  soul  has 
quitted  the  body.  When  we  were  a  little  recovered,  we 
mutually  drew  each  other's  pictures  from  our  respective 
pockets  at  the  same  moment,  to  show  how  carefully  we 
had  always  kept  them. 

After  that  we  met  constantly,  and  he  called  upon  my 
parents.  I  now  put  our  marriage  seriously  before  them, 
but  without  success  as  regards  my  mother. 

I  shall  never  forget  Richard  as  he  was  then.  He 
had  had  twenty-one  attacks  of  fever — had  been  partially 
paralyzed  and  partially  blind.  He  was  a  mere  skeleton, 
with  brown-yellow  skin  hanging  in  bags,  his  eyes 
protruding,  and  his  lips  drawn  away  from  his  teeth. 
I  used  to  give  him  my  arm  about  the  Botanical  Gardens 
for  fresh  air,  and  sometimes  convey  him  almost  faint- 
ing in  a  cab  to  our  house  or  friends'  houses,  who 
allowed  and  encouraged  our  meeting. 

He  told  me  that  all  the  time  he  had  been  away  the 
greatest  consolation  he  had  received  were  my  fortnightly 
journals,  in  letter-form,  to  him,  accompanied  by  all 
newspaper  scraps,  and  public  and  private  information, 
and  accounts  of  books,  such  as  I  knew  would  interest 
him  ;  so  that  when  he  did  get  a  mail,  which  was  only 
in  a  huge  batch  now  and  then,  he  was  as  well  posted 
up  as  if  he  were  living  in  London. 

Richard  was  looking  so  lank  and  thin.  He  was 
sadly  altered  ;  his  youth,  health,  spirits,  and  beauty 
were  all  gone  for  the  time.  He  fully  justified  his 


flDeet  again  151 

fevers,  his  paralysis  and  blindness,  and  any  amount  of 
anxiety,  peril,  hardship,  and  privation  in  unhealthy 
latitudes.  Never  did  I  feel  the  strength  of  my  love 
as  then.  He  returned  poorer,  and  dispirited  by 
official  rows  and  every  species  of  annoyance  ;  but  he 
was  still — had  he  been  ever  so  unsuccessful,  and  had 
every  man's  hand  against  him — my  earthly  god  and 
king,  and  I  could  have  knelt  at  his  feet  and  worshipped 
him.  I  used  to  feel  so  proud  of  him  ;  I  used  to  like 
to  sit  and  look  at  him,  and  think,  "  You  are  mine,  and 
there  is  no  man  on  earth  the  least  like  you."1 

Isabel  tells  us  that  she  regretted  bitterly  not  having 
been  able  to  stay  with  and  nurse  the  man  she  loved 
at  this  time.  They  were  both  most  anxious  that  their 
marriage  should  take  place,  so  that  they  might  be 
together.  But  the  great  obstacle  to  their  union  was 
Mrs.  Arundell's  opposition.  Isabel  made  a  long  and 
impassioned  appeal  to  her  mother  ;  but  she  would  not 
relent,  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  lovers'  pleadings. 
In  justice  to  Mrs.  Arundell,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
she  had  apparently  good  reasons  for  refusing  her  con- 
sent to  their  marriage.  Burton's  niece  says  that  she 
"  vehemently  objected  to  any  daughter  of  hers  espousing 
a  Protestant."2  But  this  is  one  of  those  half-truths 

1  At  this  point  Lady  Burton's  autobiography  ends — cut  short  by 
her  death.  Henceforward,  when  she  speaks  in  the  first  person,  it 
will  be  from  her  papers  and  letters,  of  which  she  left  a  great 
number.  She  was  sorting  them  when  she  died.  But  I  have  felt 
justified  in  repeating  the  story  of  her  marriage  in  her  own  words, 
as  no  other  pen  could  do  justice  to  it. 

1  Miss  Stisted's  Life  of  Burton. 


isa      TTbc  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

which  conceal  a  whole  fallacy.  Of  course  Mrs. 
Arundell,  who  came  of  an  old  Roman  Catholic  family, 
and  who  was  a  woman  of  strong  religious  convictions, 
would  have  preferred  her  daughter  to  marry  a  man 
of  the  same  faith  as  herself.  But  it  was  not  a  question 
between  Catholicity  and  Protestantism,  but  between 
Christianity  and  no  religion  at  all.  From  all  that  was 
publicly  known  of  Burton  at  this  time,  from  his  writings 
and  his  conversation,  he  was  an  Agnostic ;  and  so  far 
as  the  religious  objection  to  the  marriage  entered,  many 
a  Protestant  Evangelical  mother  would  have  demurred 
quite  as  much  as  Mrs.  Arundell  did.  Religious  pre- 
judices may  be  just  or  unjust,  but  they  are  forces 
which  have  to  be  reckoned  with.  And  the  religious 
objection  was  not  by  any  means  the  only  one.  At 
this  time  there  were  unpleasant  rumours  flying  about 
concerning  Burton,  and  some  echo  of  them  had  reached 
Mrs.  Arundell's  ears.  The  way  in  which  the  Royal 
Geographical  Society  had  passed  him  over  in  favour  of 
Speke  had  naturally  lent  colour  to  these  reports ;  and 
although  Burton  had  a  few  friends,  he  had  many 
enemies.  He  was  under  a  cloud.  The  Government 
ignored  him ;  the  War  Office  disliked  him ;  his  military 
career  had  so  far  been  a  failure — there  was  no  prospect 
of  promotion ;  the  Indian  army  had  brought  him  under 
the  reduction  ;  he  had  not  the  means  to  keep  a  wife 
in  decent  comfort,  nor  were  his  relations  in  a  position 
to  help  him,  either  with  money  or  influence  ;  and 
lastly,  he  was  of  a  wild,  roving  disposition.  All  these 
considerations  combined  to  make  Mrs.  Arundell  hesi- 
tate in  entrusting  her  daughter's  happiness  to  his  hands. 


fl&eet  Hoain  153 

It  must  be  remembered  that  Isabel  was  the  eldest 
child.  She  was  a  very  handsome  and  fascinating  girl ; 
she  had  many  wealthy  suitors,  and  might  well  have 
been  expected  to  make  "a  good  match."  From  a 
worldly  point  of  view  she  was  simply  throwing  herself 
away.  From  a  higher  point  of  view  she  was  follow- 
ing her  destiny,  and  marrying  the  man  she  loved  with 
every  fibre  of  her  being.  But  Mrs.  Arundell  could 
hardly  have  been  expected  to  see  things  in  this  light, 
and  in  opposing  Isabel's  marriage  with  Richard  Burton 
she  only  acted  as  ninety-nine  mothers  out  of  every 
hundred  would  have  done.  No  sooner  were  they 
married  than  she  admitted  that  she  had  made  a  mis- 
take, and  did  all  in  her  power  to  atone  for  it ;  but  at 
this  time  she  was  inexorable.1 

Burton,  who  was  very  much  in  love,  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  brooking  opposition,  least  of  all  from  a  woman ; 
and  he  suggested  to  Isabel  that  they  should  take  the 
law  in  their  own  hands,  and  make  a  runaway  match 
of  it.  After  all,  they  had  arrived  at  years  of  dis- 
cretion, and  might  fairly  be  expected  to  know  their 
own  minds.  He  was  past  forty,  and  Isabel  was  nearly 
thirty.  More  than  three  years  had  gone  by  since  he 
declared  his  love  to  her  in  the  Botanical  Gardens  ; 
nearly  ten  years  had  passed  since  she  had  fallen  in 
love  with  him  on  the  Ramparts  of  Boulogne.  Surely 

1  Lady  Burton  also,  during  the  last  years  of  her  life,  admitted 
that  she  had  made  a  mistake  in  judging  her  mother's  opposition 
too  harshly.  She  often  said  to  her  sister,  "  I  am  so  sorry  I  published 
those  hard  things  I  wrote  of  dear  mother  in  my  Life  of  Dick.  It 
was  her  love  for  me  which  made  her  do  it.  I  will  cut  it  out  in  the 
next  edition." 


1 54      Ubc  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaog  Burton 

they  had  waited  long  enough.  Isabel  was  swayed  by 
his  pleading  ;  more  than  once  she  was  on  the  point 
of  yielding,  but  she  resisted  the  temptation.  Duty 
and  obedience  were  always  watchwords  with  her,  and 
she  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  going  against  her 
mother.  Her  sense  of  duty  warred  with  her  desire. 
So  things  see-sawed  for  nearly  a  year.  And  then  : 

"  One  day  in  April,  1 860, 1  was  walking  out  with  two 
friends,  and  a  tightening  of  the  heart  came  over  me  that 
I  had  known  before.  I  went  home,  and  said  to  my 
sister,  '  I  am  not  going  to  see  Richard  for  some  time.' 
She  said,  *  Why,  you  will  see  him  to-morrow  ! '  *  No,  I 
shall  not,'  I  said  ;  *  I  don't  know  what  is  the  matter.' 
A  tap  came  at  the  door,  and  a  note  with  the  well- 
known  writing  was  put  into  my  hand.  I  knew  my 
fate,  and  with  a  deep-drawn  breath  I  opened  it.  He 
had  left — could  not  bear  the  pain  of  saying  good-bye  ; 
would  be  absent  for  nine  months,  on  a  journey  to  see 
Salt  Lake  City.  He  would  then  come  back,  and  see 
whether  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  choose  between 
him  or  my  mother,  to  marry  me  if  I  would ;  and  if 
I  had  not  the  courage  to  risk  it,  he  would  go  back 
to  India,  and  thence  to  other  explorations,  and  re- 
turn no  more.  I  was  to  take  nine  months  to  think 
about  it."1 

This  was  the  last  straw  to  Isabel,  and  for  a  time  she 
broke  down  utterly.  For  some  weeks  she  was  ill  in 
bed  and  delirious,  heart-sick  and  hopeless,  worn  out 
with  the  mental  conflict  she  was  going  through.  Then 
she  girded  up  her  strength  for  one  last  struggle,  and 
1  Life  of  Sir  Richard  Bur  fan,  by  Isabel  his  wife,  vol.  i.,  p.  337. 


fl&eet  Hgatn  155 

when  she  arose  from  her  bed  her  purpose  was  clear  and 
strong.  The  first  thing  she  did  showed  that  her  mind 
was  made  up.  On  the  plea  of  change  of  air  she  went 
into  the  country  and  stayed  at  a  farmhouse.  As  she 
had  determined  to  marry  a  poor  man  and  also  to 
accompany  him  in  all  his  travels,  she  set  herself  to  rough 
it  and  to  learn  everything  which  might  fit  her  for  the 
roving  life  she  was  afterwards  to  lead,  so  that  in  the 
desert  or  the  backwoods,  with  servants  or  without  them, 
she  might  be  qualified  for  any  emergency.  In  addition 
to  mastering  all  domestic  duties  at  the  farmhouse, 
heavy  and  light,  she  tried  her  hand  at  outdoor  work 
as  well,  and  learned  how  to  look  after  the  poultry- 
yard  and  cattle,  to  groom  the  horses,  and  to  milk  the 
cows.  Nor  did  her  efforts  end  here.  When  she  came 
back  to  London,  she  asked  a  friend  (Dr.  Bird)  to  teach 
her  to  fence.  He  asked  her  why  she  wanted  to  learn 
fencing.  She  answered,  "  Why  ?  To  defend  Richard, 
when  he  and  I  are  attacked  in  the  wilderness  together." 
Later  on  Burton  himself  taught  her  to  fence,  and  she 
became  an  expert  fencer.  At  this  time  also  she  was 
eager  for  books  of  all  kinds.  She  wanted  a  wider  range 
of  reading,  so  that  she  might,  as  she  phrased  it,  "  be 
able  to  discuss  things  with  Richard."  This  period  of 
waiting  was,  in  effect,  a  period  of  preparation  for  her 
marriage  with  the  man  she  loved,  and  she  pursued  her 
preparations  steadily  and  quietly  without  a  shadow  of 
wavering.  Nevertheless  she  fretted  a  great  deal  during 
this  separation.  A  friend  who  knew  her  at  this  time  has 
told  me  she  often  looked  wretched.  .  She  spent  much 
time  in  fasting  and  prayer,  and  there  were  days  when 


156      ftbe  Vomance  of  Isabel  Xa£>g  JSurton 

she  would  eat  nothing  but  vegetable  and  drink  water. 
She  used  to  call  these  her  "  marrow  and  water  days." 

One  day  she  saw  in  the  paper  "  Murder  of  Captain 
Burton."  Her  anguish  was  intense.  Her  mother 
went  with  her  to  the  mail-office  to  make  inquiries 
and  ascertain  the  truth.  A  Captain  Burton  had  been 
murdered  by  his  crew,  but  it  was  not  Isabel's  Captain 
Burton.  She  says,  "  My  life  seemed  to  hang  on  a 
thread  till  he  [the  clerk]  answered,  and  then  my  face 
beamed  so  the  man  was  quite  startled."  Great  joy,  like 
great  grief,  is  selfish.  She  gave  little  thought  of  the  poor 
man  who  was  killed,  the  sense  of  relief  was  so  great. 
Burton — her  Burton — was  at  that  moment  enjoying 
himself  with  the  Mormons  in  Salt  Lake  City,  where  he 
stayed  for  some  months.  When  his  tour  was  completed, 
he  turned  his  face  towards  home  again — and  Isabel. 


CHAPTER  X1 

AT  LAST 
(1860—1861) 

My  beloved  is  mine,  and  I  am  his. 

Set  me  as  a  seal  upon  thine  heart,  as  a  seal  upon  thine  arm  : 
For  love  is  strong  as  death. 

The  Song  of  Solomon. 

IT  was  Christmas,  1860,  that  I  went  to  stop  with  my 
relatives,  Sir  Clifford  and  Lady  Constable  (his  first 
wife,  nee  Chichester),  at  Burton  Constable — the  father 
and  mother  of  the  present  baronet.  There  was  a  large 
party  in  the  house,  and  we  were  singing  ;  some  one 
propped  up  the  music  with  the  Times,  which  had  just 
arrived,  and  the  first  announcement  that  caught  my 
eye  was  that  "  Captain  R.  F.  Burton  had  arrived  from 
America." 

I  was  unable,  except  by  great  resolution,  to  continue 
what  I  was  doing.  I  soon  retired  to  my  room,  and  sat 
up  all  night,  packing,  and  conjecturing  how  I  should 
get  away — all  my  numerous  plans  tending  to  a  "  bolt  " 
next  morning — should  I  get  an  affectionate  letter  from 

^his  chapter  is  a  condensed  account  of  Lady  Burton's  marriage, 
as  related  by  herself  in  her  Life  of  her  husband,  with  some  fresh 
material  added. 


158      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Button 

Richard.  I  received  two  ;  one  had  been  opened  and 
read  by  somebody  else,  and  one,  as  it  afterwards  turned 
out,  had  been  burked  at  home  before  forwarding.  It  was 
not  an  easy  matter.  I  was  in  a  large  country  ho-ise  in 
Yorkshire,  with  about  twenty-five  friends  and  relatives, 
amongst  whom  was  one  brother,  and  I  had  heaps  of 
luggage.  We  were  blocked  up  with  snow,  and  nine 
miles  from  the  station,  and  (contra  miglior  noler  voter 
mal  pugnd)  I  had  heard  of  his  arrival  only  early  in  the 
evening,  and  twelve  hours  later  I  managed  to  get  a 
telegram,  ordering  me  to  London,  under  the  impression 
that  it  was  of  the  most  vital  importance. 

What  a  triumph  it  is  to  a  woman's  heart,  when  she 
has  patiently  and  courageously  worked  and  prayed  and 
suffered,  and  the  moment  is  realized  that  was  the  goal 
of  her  ambition ! 

As  soon  as  we  met,  and  had  had  our  talk,  he  said  : 
"  I  have  waited  for  five  years.  The  first  three  were 
inevitable,  on  account  of  my  journey  to  Africa,  but  the 
last  two  were  not.  Our  lives  are  being  spoiled  by  the 
unjust  prejudice  of  your  mother,  and  it  is  for  you  to 
consider  whether  you  have  not  already  done  your  duty 
in  sacrificing  two  of  the  best  years  of  your  life  out  of 
respect  to  her.  If  once  you  really  let  me  go,  mind,  I 
shall  never  come  back,  because  I  shall  know  that  you 
have  not  got  the  strength  of  character  which  my  wife 
must  have.  Now  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to 
choose  between  your  mother  and  me.  If  you  choose 
me,  we  marry,  and  I  stay ;  if  not,  I  go  back  to  India, 
and  on  other  explorations,  and  I  return  no  more.  Is 
your  answer  ready  ?  " 


Ht  Xast  159 

I  said,  "  Quite.  I  marry  you  this  day  three  weeks, 
let  who  will  say  nay." 

When  we  fixed  the  date  of  our  marriage,  I  wanted 
to  be  married  on  Wednesday,  the  23rd,  because  it  was 
the  Espousals  of  Our  Lady  and  St.  Joseph  ;  but  he 
would  not,  because  Wednesday  the  23rd  and  Friday 
the  1 3th  were  our  unlucky  days  ;  so  we  were  married 
on  the  Vigil,  Tuesday,  January  22. 

We  pictured  to  ourselves  much  domestic  happiness, 
with  youth,  health,  courage,  and  talent  to  win  honour, 
name,  and  position.  We  had  the  same  tastes,  and 
perfect  confidence  in  each  other.  No  one  turns  away 
from  real  happiness  without  some  very  strong  tempta- 
tion or  delusion.  I  went  straight  to  my  father  and 
mother,  and  told  them  what  had  occurred.  My  father 
said,  "  I  consent  with  all  my  heart,  if  your  mother  con- 
sents"; and  mother  said,  "JVSrwr/"  I  asked  all  my 
brothers  and  sisters,  and  they  said  they  would  receive 
him  with  delight.  My  mother  offered  me  a  marriage 
with  my  father  and  brothers  present,  my  mother  and 
sisters  not.  I  felt  that  this  was  a  slight  upon  him,  a 
slight  upon  his  family,  and  a  slur  upon  me,  which  I 
did  not  deserve,  and  I  refused  it.  I  went  to  Cardinal 
Wiseman,  and  I  told  him  the  whole  case  as  it  stood, 
and  he  asked  me  if  my  mind  was  absolutely  made  up, 
and  I  said,  "  Absolutely"  Then  he  said,  "Leave  the 
matter  to  me."  He  requested  Richard  to  call  upon 
him,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  give  him  three 
promises  in  writing — (i)  that  I  should  be  allowed 
the  free  practice  of  my  religion  ;  (2)  that  if  we  had 
any  children  they  should  be  brought  up  Catholics  ; 


160      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Zat>g  JSurton 

(3)  that  we  should  be  married  in  the  Catholic  Church  : 
which  three  promises  Richard  readily  signed.  He 
also  amused  the  Cardinal,  as  the  family  afterwards 
learnt,  by  saying  sharply,  "  Practise  her  religion  indeed  ! 
I  should  rather  think  she  shall.  A  man  without 
a  religion  may  be  excused,  but  a  woman  without  a 
religion  is  not  the  woman  for  me."  The  Cardinal 
then  sent  for  me,  promised  me  his  protection,  said  he 
would  himself  procure  a  special  dispensation  from 
Rome,  and  that  he  would  perform  the  ceremony  him- 
self. He  then  saw  my  father,  who  told  him  how  much 
opposed  my  mother  was  to  it ;  that  she  was  threatened 
with  paralysis  ;  that  we  had  to  consider  her  in  every 
possible  way,  that  she  might  receive  no  shocks,  no 
agitation  ;  but  that  all  the  rest  quite  consented  to  the 
marriage.  A  big  family  council  was  then  held  ;  and  it 
was  agreed  far  better  for  Richard  and  me  and  for  every 
one  to  make  all  proper  arrangements  to  be  married 
and  to  be  attended  by  friends,  and  for  me  to  go  away 
on  a  visit  to  some  friends,  that  they  might  not  come  to 
the  wedding,  nor  participate  in  it,  in  order  not  to  agitate 
my  mother  ;  that  they  would  break  it  to  her  at  a  suit- 
able time ;  and  that  the  secret  of  their  knowing  it 
should  be  kept  up  as  long  as  mother  Jived.  <c  Mind," 
said  my  father,  "  you  must  never  bring  a  misunder- 
standing between  mother  and  me,  nor  between  her  and 
her  children." 

I  passed  that  three  weeks  preparing  very  solemnly 
and  earnestly  for  my  marriage  day,  but  yet  something 
differently  to  what  many  expectant  brides  do.  I  made  a 
very  solemn  religious  preparation,  receiving  the  Sacra- 


Ht  Xast  161 

ments.     Gowns,   presents,  and  wedding  pageants  had 
no  part  in  it,  had  no  place. 

The  following  were   my  reflections  l : 

"  The  principal  and   leading  features  of  my  future 
life  are  going  to  be  : 

"  Marriage  with  Richard. 

"  My  parents'  blessing  and  pardon. 

"A  man-child. 

"An  appointment,  money  earned  by  literature  and 
publishing. 

"A  little  society. 

"  Doing  a  great  deal  of  good. 

"Much  travelling. 

"  I  have  always  divided  marriage  into  three  classes — 
Love,  Ambition,  and  Life.  By  Life  I  mean  a  particular 
style  of  life  and  second  self  that  a  peculiar  disposi- 
tion and  strong  character  require  to  make  life  happy, 
and  without  which  possibly  neither  Love  alone  nor 
Ambition  alone  would  satisfy  it.  And  I  love  a 
man  in  whom  I  can  unite  all  three,  Love,  Life, 
and  Ambition,  of  my  own  choice.  Some  understand 
Ambition  as  Title,  Wealth,  Estates  ;  I  understand  it  as 
Fame,  Name,  Power.  I  have  undertaken  a  very  peculiar 
man  ;  I  have  asked  a  difficult  mission  of  God,  and  that 
is  to  give  me  that  man's  body  and  soul.  It  is  a  grand 
mission ;  and  after  ten  years  and  a  half  of  prayer  God 
has  given  it  to  me.  Now  we  must  lead  a  good,  useful, 
active,  noble  life,  and  be  each  other's  salvation  ;  and  if 
we  have  children,  bring  them  up  in  the  fear  of  God. 
The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  obtain  my  parents' 

1  From  her  devotional  book  Lamed. 
VOL.    I.  II 


i6a      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xao$>  Burton 

pardon  and  blessing  for  going  my  own  way ;  the  next, 
to  pray  for  a  child  to  comfort  me  when  he  is  absent  and 
cannot  take  me ;  and,  thirdly,  to  set  to  work  with  a  good 
heart  to  work  for  an  appointment  or  other  means  of 
living.  We  must  do  any  amount  of  study  and  publishing, 
take  society  in  moderation  as  a  treat  ;  we  must  do 
good  according  to  our  means  ;  and  when  successful  we 
will  travel.  My  rules  as  a  wife  are  as  follows : 

IRules  for  mg  (Butoance  as  a  Wife. 

"  I .  Let  your  husband  find  in  you  a  companion,  friend, 
and  adviser,  and  confidante,  that  he  may  miss  nothing  at 
home  ;  and  let  him  find  in  the  wife  what  he  and  many 
other  men  fancy  is  only  to  be  found  in  a  mistress,  that 
he  may  seek  nothing  out  of  his  home. 

"  2.  Be  a  careful  nurse  when  he  is  ailing,  that  he  may 
never  be  in  low  spirits  about  his  health  without  a  serious 
cause. 

"  3.  Make  his  home  snug.  If  it  be  ever  so  small  and 
poor,  there  can  always  be  a  certain  chic  about  it.  Men 
are  always  ashamed  of  a  poverty-stricken  home,  and 
therefore  prefer  the  club.  Attend  much  to  his  creature 
comforts  ;  allow  smoking  or  anything  else  ;  for  if  you 
do  not,  somebody  else  will.  Make  it  yourself  cheerful 
and  attractive,  and  draw  relations  and  intimates  about 
him,  and  the  style  of  society  (literati)  that  suits  him, 
marking  who  are  real  friends  to  him  and  who  are  not. 

"  4.  Improve  and  educate  yourself  in  every  way,  that 
you  may  enter  into  his  pursuits  and  keep  pace  with 
the  times,  that  he  may  not  weary  of  you. 


Bt  %ast  163 

"5.  Be  prepared  at  any  moment  to  follow  him  at  an 
hour's  notice  and  rough  it  like  a  man. 

"  6.  Do  not  try  to  hide  your  affection  for  him,  but 
let  him  see  and  feel  it  in  every  action.  Never  refuse 
him  anything  he  asks.  Observe  a  certain  amount  of 
reserve  and  delicacy  before  him.  Keep  up  the  honey- 
moon romance,  whether  at  home  or  in  the  desert.  At 
the  same  time  do  not  make  prudish  bothers,  which  only 
disgust,  and  are  not  true  modesty.  Do  not  make  the 
mistake  of  neglecting  your  personal  appearance,  but  try 
to  look  well  and  dress  well  to  please  his  eye. 

"  7.  Perpetually  work  up  his  interests  with  the  world, 
whether  for  publishing  or  for  appointments.  Let  him 
feel,  when  he  has  to  go  away,  that  he  leaves  a  second 
self  in  charge  of  his  affairs  at  home  ;  so  that  if  sometimes 
he  is  obliged  to  leave  you  behind,  he  may  have  nothing 
of  anxiety  on  his  mind.  Take  an  interest  in  everything 
that  interests  him.  To  be  companionable,  a  woman 
must  learn  what  interests  her  husband  ;  and  if  it  is  only 
planting  turnips,  she  must  try  to  understand  turnips. 

"  8.  Never  confide  your  domestic  affairs  to  your  female 
friends. 

"  9.  Hide  his  faults  from  every  one,  and  back  him 
up  through  every  difficulty  and  trouble  ;  but  with  his 
peculiar  temperament  advocate  peace  whenever  it  is 
consistent  with  his  honour  before  the  world. 

"  10.  Never  permit  any  one  to  speak  disrespectfully  of 
him  before  you  ;  and  if  any  one  does,  no  matter  how 
difficult,  leave  the  room.  Never  permit  any  one  to  tell 
you  anything  about  him,  especially  of  his  conduct  with 
regard  to  other  women.  Never  hurt  his  feelings  by 


164      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaos  JSurton 

a  rude  remark  or  jest.  Never  answer  when  he  finds 
fault ;  and  never  reproach  him  when  he  is  in  the  wrong, 
especially  when  he  tells  you  of  it,  nor  take  advantage  of 
it  when  you  are  angry ;  and  always  keep  his  heart  up 
when  he  has  made  a  failure. 

"11.  Keep  all  disagreements  for  your  own  room, 
and  never  let  others  find  them  out. 

"12.  Never  ask  him  not  to  do  anything — for  instance, 
with  regard  to  visiting  other  women,  or  any  one  you 
particularly  dislike  ;  trust  him,  and  tell  him  everything, 
except  another  person's  secret. 

"  13.  Do  not  bother  him  with  religious  talk,  be 
religious  yourself  and  give  good  example,  take  life 
seriously  and  earnestly,  pray  for  and  procure  prayers 
for  him,  and  do  all  you  can  for  him  without  his 
knowing  it,  and  let  all  your  life  be  something  that  will 
win  mercy  from  God  for  him.  You  might  try  to  say 
a  little  prayer  with  him  every  night  before  laying  down 
to  sleep,  and  gently  draw  him  to  be  good  to  the  poor 
and  more  gentle  and  forbearing  to  others. 

"  14.  Cultivate  your  own  good  health,  spirits,  and 
nerves,  to  counteract  his  naturally  melancholy  turn, 
and  to  enable  you  to  carry  out  your  mission. 

"  15.  Never  open  his  letters,  nor  appear  inquisitive 
about  anything  he  does  not  volunteer  to  tell  you. 

"  1 6.  Never  interfere  between  him  and  his  family; 
encourage  their  being  with  him,  and  forward  everything 
he  wishes  to  do  for  them,  and  treat  them  in  every 
respect  (as  far  as  they  will  let  you)  as  if  they  were 
your  own. 

"  17.  Keep  everything  going,  and  let  nothing  ever 


Ht  %ast  165 

be   at   a   standstill  :    nothing   would    weary   him   like 
stagnation."  1 

Richard  arranged  with  my  own  lawyer  and  my  own 
priest  that  everything  should  be  conducted  in  a  strictly 
legal  and  strictly  religious  way,  and  the  whole  pro- 
gramme of  the  affair  was  prepared.  A  very  solemn 
day  to  me  was  the  eve  of  my  marriage.  The  follow- 
ing day  I  was  supposed  to  be  going  to  pass  a  few 
weeks  with  a  friend  in  the  country. 

At  nine  o'clock  on  Tuesday,  January  22,  1861, 
my  cab  was  at  the  door,  with  my  box  on  it.  I 
had  to  go  and  wish  my  father  and  mother  good-bye 
before  leaving.  I  went  downstairs  with  a  beating 
heart,  after  I  had  knelt  in  my  own  room,  and  said  a 
fervent  prayer  that  they  might  bless  me,  and  if  they 
did  I  would  take  it  as  a  sign.  I  was  so  nervous,  I 
could  scarcely  stand.  When  I  went  in  mother  kissed 
me,  and  said,  "  Good-bye,  child  ;  God  bless  you !  "  I 
went  to  my  father's  bedside,  and  knelt  down  and  said 
good-bye.  "  God  bless  you,  my  darling  !  "  he  said,  and 
put  his  hand  out  of  the  bed  and  laid  it  on  my  head.  I 
was  too  much  overcome  to  speak,  and  one  or  two  tears 
ran  down  my  cheeks,  and  I  remember  as  I  passed  down 
I  kissed  the  door  outside. 

I  then  ran  downstairs,  and  quickly  got  into  my 
cab,  and  drove  to  the  house  of  some  friends  (Dr.  and 

1  She  wrote  in  her  book  Lamed  in  1864:  "All  has  been 
carried  out  by  God's  help,  with  the  only  exception  that  He  saw  it  was 
not  good  to  give  us  children,  for  which  we  are  now  most  grateful 
Whatever  happens  to  us  is  always  for  the  best." 


166      zibe  iRomancc  ot  Isabel  Xa&p  JBurton 

Miss  Bird),  where  I  changed  my  clothes — not  wedding 
clothes  (clothes  which  most  brides  of  to-day  would 
probably  laugh  at) — a  fawn-coloured  dress,  a  black-lace 
cloak,  and  a  white  bonnet — and  they  and  I  drove  off 
to  the  Bavarian  Catholic  Church,  Warwick  Street. 
When  assembled,  we  were  altogether  a  party  of  eight. 
The  Registrar  was  there  for  legality,  as  is  customary. 
Richard  was  waiting  on  the  doorstep  for  me,  and  as  we 
went  in  he  took  holy  water,  and  made  a  very  large 
sign  of  the  cross.  The  church  doors  were  wide  open, 
and  full  of  people,  and  many  were  there  who  knew  us. 
As  the  10.30  Mass  was  about  to  begin  we  were  called 
into  the  Sacristy,  and  we  then  found  that  the  Cardinal 
in  the  night  had  been  seized  with  an  acute  attack  of  the 
illness  which  carried  him  off  four  years  later,  and  had 
deputed  Dr.  Hearne,  his  Vicar-General,  to  be  his  proxy. 
After  the  ceremony  was  over  and  the  names  signed, 
we  went  back  to  the  house  of  our  friend  Dr.  Bird  and 
his  sister  Alice,  who  have  always  been  our  best  friends, 
where  we  had  our  wedding  breakfast.  During  the 
time  we  were  breakfasting  Dr.  Bird  began  to  chaff 
Richard  about  the  things  that  were  sometimes  said  of 
him,  and  which  were  not  true.  "Now,  Burton,  tell 
me,  how  do  you  feel  when  you  have  killed  a  man  ?  " 
Dr.  Bird  (being  a  physician)  had  given  himself  away 
without  knowing  it.  Richard  looked  up  quizzically, 
and  drawled  out,  "  Oh,  quite  jolly  !  How  do  you  ? "  * 

1  Miss  Alice  Bird,  who  knew  Sir  Richard  and  Lady  Burton  for  many 
years,  has  told  roe  the  following  details  about  the  wedding.  The 
Birds  were  friends  of  the  Arundell  family,  and  Isabel  came  to  them 
and  told  them  how  matters  stood  with  regard  to  Mrs.  Arundell's 
opposition  and  her  ill-health,  and  asked  if  she  might  be  married 


LADY    BURTON    AT    THE    TIME    OF    HER    MARRIAGE.         (P«ge   '66- 


at  Xast  167 

We  then  went  to  Richard's  bachelor  lodgings,  where 
he  had  a  bedroom,  dressing-room,  and  sitting-room  ; 
and  we  had  very  few  pounds  to  bless  ourselves  with, 
but  were  as  happy  as  it  is  given  to  any  mortals  out 
of  heaven  to  be.  The  fact  is,  that  the  only  clan- 
destine thing  about  it — and  that  was  quite  contrary  to 
my  desire — was  that  my  poor  mother,  with  her  health 
and  her  religious  scruples,  was  kept  in  the  dark  ;  but  I 
must  thank  God,  though  paralysis  came  on  two  years 
later,  it  was  not  I  that  caused  it. 

To  say  that  I  was  happy  would  be  to  say  nothing. 
A  peace  came  over  me  that  I  had  never  known.  I  felt 
that  it  was  for  eternity,  an  immortal  repose,  and  I  was 
in  a  bewilderment  of  wonder  at  the  goodness  of  God, 
Who  had  almost  worked  miracles  for  me. 

from  their  house,  and  so,  to  use  her  own  phrase,  "  throw  the  mantle 
of  respectability  over  the  marriage,"  to  prevent  people  saying  that  it 
was  a  runaway  match.  Dr.  Bird  and  his  sister  gladly  consented  ; 
they  accompanied  her  to  the  church,  and  when  the  ceremony  was 
over  the  newly  wedded  couple  returned  to  their  house  in  Welbeck 
Street,  where  they  had  a  simple  luncheon,  which  did  duty  for  the 
wedding  breakfast. 

After  luncheon  was  over  Isabel  and  her  husband  walked  off  down 
Welbeck  Street  to  their  lodging  in  St.  James's,  where  they  settled 
down  without  any  fuss  whatever.  She  had  sent  her  boxes  on  ahead 
in  a  four-wheeler.  That  evening  a  bachelor  friend  of  Burton's 
called  in  at  the  lodging  in  St.  James's,  and  found  Isabel  seated 
there,  in  every  sense  mistress  of  the  situation,  and  Burton  proudly 
introduced  her  as  "  My  wife."  They  did  not  send  the  friend  away, 
but  kept  him  there  to  smoke  and  have  a  chat  with  them. 


BOOK    II 

WEDDED 

(1861—1890) 

"  Ellati  Zaujuhd  ma' aha  Vtadir  el  Kamar  Vasbiha" 
("  The  woman  who  has  her  husband  with  her  can  turn  the  moon 
with  her  finger.") 


169 


CHAPTER   I 

FERNANDO    PO 
(1861—1863) 

I  praise  thee  while  my  days  go  on; 

I  love  thee  while  my  days  go  on ; 

Through  dark  and  death,  through  fire  and  frost, 

With  emptied  arms  and  treasure  lost, 

I  thank  thee  while  my  days  go  on. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 

IN  fiction  (though  perhaps  not  now  as  much  as 
formerly)  marriage  is  often  treated  as  the  end  of 
all  things  in  a  woman's  life,  and  the  last  chapter  winds 
up  with  the  "  happy  ever  after,"  like  the  concluding 
scene  of  a  melodrama.  But  in  this  romance  of  Isabel 
Burton,  this  drama  of  real  life,  marriage  was  but  the 
beginning  of  the  second  and  more  important  half  of 
her  life.  It  was  the  blossoming  of  love's  flower,  the 
expanding  of  her  womanhood,  the  fulfilment  of  her 
destiny.  For  such  a  marriage  as  hers  was  a  sacrament 
consecrated  by  love;  it  was  a  knitting  together,  a  oneness, 
a  union  of  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  of  thought,  feeling, 
and  inclination,  such  as  is  not  often  given  to  mortals  to 
enjoy.  But  then  Burton  was  no  ordinary  man,  nor  was 

his  wife  an  ordinary  woman.     She  often  said  he  was 

171 


172      TTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

"  the  only  man  in  the  world  who  could  manage  me," 
and  to  this  it  may  be  added  that  she  was  the  only 
woman  in  the  world  who  would  have  suited  him.  No 
other  woman  could  have  held  him  as  she  did.  The 
very  qualities  which  made  her  different  to  the  ordinary 
run  of  women  were  those  which  made  her  the  ideal 
wife  for  a  man  like  Richard  Burton.  The  eagle  does 
not  mate  with  the  domestic  hen,  and  in  Isabel's  uncon- 
ventional and  adventurous  temperament  Burton  saw 
the  reflex  of  his  own.  Though  holding  different  views 
on  some  things,  they  had  the  same  basic  principles ;  and 
though  their  early  environment  and  education  had  been 
widely  different,  yet  Nature,  the  greatest  force  of  all, 
had  brought  them  together  and  blended  them  into  one. 
It  was  a  union  of  affinities.  Isabel  merged  her  life  in 
her  husband's.  She  sacrificed  everything  to  him  save 
two  things — her  rare  individuality,  and  her  fervent  faith 
in  her  religion.  The  first  she  could  not  an  she  would  ; 
the  second  she  would  not  an  she  could  ;  and  to  his 
honour  be  it  said  he  never  demanded  it  of  her.  But 
in  all  else  she  was  his  absolutely  ;  her  passionate 
ideals,  the  treasure  of  her  love,  her  life's  happiness — all 
were  his  to  cherish  or  to  mar  as  he  might  please.  She 
had  a  high  ideal  of  the  married  state.  "  I  think,"  she 
writes,  "  a  true  woman  who  is  married  to  her  proper 
mate  recognizes  the  fully  performed  mission,  whether 
prosperous  or  not,  and  no  one  can  ever  take  his  place 
for  her  as  an  interpreter  of  that  which  is  between  her 
and  her  Creator,  to  her  the  shadow  of  God's  protection 
here  on  earth."  And  her  conception  of  a  wife's  duty 
was  an  equally  unselfish  one,  for  she  wrote  of  the 


jfernanfco  ipo  173 

beginning  of  her  married  life  :  "  I  began  to  feel,  what 
I  have  always  felt  since,  that  he  was  a  glorious,  stately 
ship  in  full  sail,  commanding  all  attention  and  admira- 
tion, and  sometimes,  if  the  wind  drops,  she  still  sails 
gallantly,  and  no  one  sees  the  humble  little  steam-tug 
hidden  on  the  other  side,  with  her  strong  heart  and 
faithful  arms  working  forth,  and  glorying  in  her  proud 
and  stately  ship." 

Very  soon  after  her  marriage  Isabel  was  reconciled 
to  her  mother.  It  came  about  in  this  wise.  Mrs. 
Arundell  thought  she  had  gone  away  on  a  visit  to  some 
friends  in  the  country,  and  told  her  friends  so ;  but  a 
week  or  two  after  the  marriage  one  of  Isabel's  aunts, 
Monica  Lady  Gerard,  heard  of  her  going  into  a  lodging 
in  St.  James's,  and  immediately  rushed  off  to  tell  Mrs. 
Arundell  that  Isabel  could  not  be  staying  in  the  country, 
as  was  supposed,  and  she  feared  she  had  elopec\  or 
something  of  the  kind.  Mrs.  Arundell,  in  an  agony  of 
fear,  telegraphed  to  her  husband,  who  was  then  stay- 
ing with  some  friends,  and  he  wired  back  to  her,  "  She 
is  married  to  Dick  Burton,  and  thank  God  for  it."  He 
also  wrote,  enclosing  a  letter  Burton  had  written  to  him 
on  the  day  of  the  marriage,  announcing  the  fact,  and 
he  asked  his  wife  to  send  one  of  Isabel's  brothers  (who 
knew  the  Burtons'  address)  to  them  and  be  reconciled. 
Mrs.  Arundell  was  so  much  relieved  that  a  worse  thing 
had  not  befallen  Isabel  that  she  sent  for  the  truant  pair 
at  once.  She  was  not  a  woman  to  do  things  by  halves  ; 
and  recognizing  that  the  inevitable  had  happened,  and 
that  for  weal  or  woe  the  deed  was  done,  she  received 
both  Isabel  and  her  husband  with  the  utmost  kindness, 


i?4      TEbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  JSurton 

and  expressed  her  regret  that  she  should  have  opposed 
the  marriage.  The  statement  that  she  never  forgave 
Burton  is  incorrect.  On  the  contrary,  she  forgave  him 
at  once,  and  grew  to  like  him  greatly,  always  treating 
him  as  a  son.  She  gave  a  family  party  to  introduce 
Burton  to  his  wife's  relations,  and  there  was  a  general 
reconciliation  all  round. 

For  seven  months  after  their  marriage  Isabel  and  her 
husband  continued  to  live,  off  and  on,  at  their  little 
lodgings  in  St.  James's,  as  happy  as  two  birds  in  a  nest. 
But  the  problem  of  ways  and  means  had  early  to  be 
considered.  Now  that  Burton  had  taken  unto  himself 
a  wife,  it  became  imperatively  necessary  that  he  should 
to  some  extent  forego  his  wandering  habits  and  settle 
down  to  earn  something  to  maintain  her  in  the  position 
in  which  she  had  been  accustomed  to  live.  He  had 
a  small  patrimony  and  his  pay ;  in  all  about  £350  a 
year.  With  the  help  Isabel's  friends  would  have  given, 
this  might  have  sufficed  to  begin  matrimony  in  India. 
In  the  ordinary  course  of  events,  Burton,  like  any  other 
officer  in  the  service,  would  have  returned  to  India,  re- 
joined his  regiment,  and  taken  his  wife  out  with  him. 
The  money  difficulty  alone  would  not  have  stood  in  the 
way.  But  there  were  other  difficulties,  as  Burton  knew 
well ;  the  strong  prejudice  against  him  (an  unjust  one,  I 
believe,  but  none  the  less  real)  made  it  hopeless  for  him 
to  expect  promotion  in  the  Indian  army.  So  he  did 
what  was  undoubtedly  the  best  thing  under  the  circum- 
stances. He  determined  not  to  return  to  India,  and  he 
applied  for  a  post  in  the  Consular  Service,  with  the 
result  that  in  March,  some  three  months  after  his 


jfernanto  Ipo  175 

marriage,  he  was  offered  the  post  of  Consul  at  Fernando 
Po,  on  the  west  coast  of  Africa — a  deadly  climate,  and 
£700  a  year.  He  cheerfully  accepted  it,  as  he  was 
only  too  glad  to  get  his  foot  on  the  lowest  rung  of 
the  official  ladder.  He  was  told  to  hold  himself  in 
readiness  to  leave  in  August ;  and  as  the  climate  of 
Fernando  Po  was  almost  certain  death  to  a  white  woman, 
he  would  not  allow  his  young  wife  to  accompany  him. 
So  the  bliss  of  the  first  months  of  their  wedded  life 
was  overshadowed  by  the  thought  of  approaching 
separation. 

In  accepting  the  offer  of  Fernando  Po,  Burton  wrote 
to  the  Foreign  Office1:  "  My  connexion  with  H.M.'s 
Indian  army  has  now  lasted  upwards  of  nineteen  years, 
and  I  am  unwilling  to  retire  without  pension  or  selling 
out  of  my  corps.  If  therefore  my  name  could  be 
retained  upon  the  list  of  my  regiment — as,  for  instance, 
is  the  case  with  H.M.'s  Consul  at  Zanzibar — I  should 
feel  deeply  indebted."  A  reasonable  request  truly. 
Lord  John  Russell,  who  was  then  Secretary  of  State 
for  Foreign  Affairs,  and  who  had  given  Burton  the 
Consulship,  caused  his  application  to  be  forwarded  to 
the  proper  quarter — the  Bombay  Government.  But 
the  authorities  in  India  refused  to  entertain  Burton's 
application  ;  they  struck  his  name  off  the  Indian  Army 
List ;  and  in  this  way  the  whole  of  his  nineteen  years' 
service  in  India  was  swept  away  without  pay  or  pension. 
If  the  brutal  truth  must  be  told,  they  were  only  too 
glad  to  seize  on  this  excuse  to  get  rid  of  him.  But 
that  does  not  palliate  their  conduct ;  it  was  well  said, 

1  Letter  to  Foreign  Office,  March  27,  1861. 


176      £be  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

"  His  enemies  may  be  congratulated  on  their  mingled 
malice  and  meanness." 

With  regard  to  Fernando  Po,  I  cannot  take  the  view 
that  Burton  was  ill-treated  in  not  getting  a  better  post; 
on  the  contrary,  taking  all  the  circumstances  into 
consideration,  he  was  fortunate  in  obtaining  this  one. 
For  what  were  the  facts  ?  He  had  undoubtedly  dis- 
tinguished himself  as  an  explorer,  as  a  linguist,  and  as 
a  writer  ;  but  his  Indian  career  had  been  a  failure. 
He  had  managed  to  give  offence  in  high  quarters,  and 
he  was  viewed  with  disfavour.  On  quitting  one  service 
under  a  cloud,  he  could  not  at  once  expect  to  receive 
a  pick  appointment  in  another.  As  a  Consul  he  was 
yet  an  untried  man.  There  is  little  doubt  that  even 
Fernando  Po  was  given  him  through  the  influence  of 
his  wife.  It  was  the  same  throughout  his  after-career  ; 
his  wife's  unceasing  efforts  on  his  behalf  helped  him 
up  every  step  of  the  official  ladder,  and  shielded  him 
more  than  once  from  the  full  force  of  the  official 
displeasure.  There  is  nothing  like  a  brilliant  and 
beautiful  wife  to  help  a  man  on  ;  and  so  Burton  found 
it.  He  had  done  many  clever  and  marvellous  things 
during  his  life,  but  the  best  day's  work  he  ever  did 
for  himself  was  when  he  married  Isabel  Arundell.  His 
marriage  was  in  fact  his  salvation.  It  steadied  him 
down  and  gave  him  some  one  to  work  for  and  some 
one  to  love,  and  it  did  more  than  anything  else  to  give 
the  lie  to  the  rumours  against  him  which  were  floating 
about.  No  longer  an  Ishmael,  he  entered  an  ancient 
and  honoured  family.  Many  who  would  not  have 
moved  a  finger  to  help  Burton  were  willing  to  do 


jfernanfco  ipo  177 

anything  in  their  power  for  his  wife  ;  and  as  she  cared 
for  only  one  thing,  her  husband's  interests,  he  secured 
their  influence  in  his  favour. 

When  the  London  season  came  round,  the  Burtons, 
despite  their  limited  means,  went  a  good  deal  into 
society.  The  story  of  their  romantic  marriage  got 
abroad,  and  many  friends  were  ready  to  take  them  by 
the  hand.  The  late  Lord  Houghton  was  especially 
kind.  He  asked  Lord  Palmerston,  who  was  then 
Prime  Minister,  to  give  a  party  in  their  honour ;  and 
Isabel  was  the  bride  of  the  evening,  and  went  down 
to  dinner  on  the  Prime  Minister's  arm.  Shortly  after 
this  she  was  presented  at  Court,  "on  her  marriage," 
by  Lady  John  Russell. 

There  had  been  some  little  doubt  in  Isabel's  mind 
concerning  her  presentation,  as  the  Queen  made  it  a 
rule  then  (and  may  do  so  now,  for  all  I  know)  that 
she  would  not  receive  at  Court  any  bride  who  had 
made  a  runaway  marriage.  Isabel's  was  hardly  a 
runaway  marriage,  as  she  married  with  her  father's 
knowledge  and  consent.  Still  it  was  not  quite  a  usual 
one,  and  she  was  very  glad  when  her  presentation  at 
Court  removed  any  doubt  in  this  respect,  especially  as 
she  looked  forward  to  living  abroad  in  the  future,  and 
difficulties  might  arise  as  to  her  attending  a  foreign 
court  if  she  were  not  received  at  her  own.  She  wanted 
to  help  her  husband  in  every  way. 

Concerning  her  presentation  Mrs.  Fitzgerald  has 
told  me  the  following  anecdote.  Isabel's  one  thought 
was  how  to  please  her  husband,  and  she  was  always 
yearning  to  win  his  approval.  A  word  of  praise  from 

VOL.   i.  12 


1 78      TTbe  "Romance  of  Seabel  Xaog  JSurton 

him  was  the  sweetest  thing  in  life.  Burton,  however, 
though  proud  and  fond  of  her,  was  of  anything  but  an 
effusive  nature,  and  his  praises  of  any  one  were  few 
and  far  between.  When  she  was  dressed  for  her  first 
Drawing-Room — and  very  handsome  she  looked,  a 
beautiful  woman  beautifully  dressed — she  went  to  show 
herself  to  her  husband.  He  looked  at  her  critically ; 
and  though  he  was  evidently  delighted  with  her  appear- 
ance, said  nothing,  which  was  a  great  disappointment 
to  her.  But  as  she  was  leaving  the  room  she  overheard 
him  say  to  her  mother,  "  La  jeune  femme  n'a  rien  a 
craindre  "  ;  and  she  went  down  to  the  carriage  radiant 
and  happy. 

The  Burtons  were  such  an  unconventional  couple 
that  there  was  a  good  deal  of  curiosity  among  their 
acquaintances  as  to  how  they  would  get  on,  and  all 
sorts  of  conjectures  were  made.  Many  of  Burton's 
bachelor  friends  told  one  another  frankly,  "  It  won't 
last.  She  will  never  be  able  to  hold  him.'*  Shortly 
after  her  marriage  one  of  her  girl  friends  took  her 
aside  and  asked  her  in  confidence,  "  Well,  Isabel,  how 
does  it  work  ?  Can  you  manage  him  ?  Does  he  ever 
come  home  at  night  ?  "  "Oh,"  said  Isabel,  "  it  works 
very  well  indeed,  and  he  always  comes  home  with  the 
milk  in  the  morning."  Of  course  this  was  only  in 
joke,  for  Burton  was  a  man  of  most  temperate  life,  and 
after  his  marriage,  at  any  rate,  he  literally  forsook  all 
others  and  cleaved  only  to  his  wife. 

About  this  time  a  calamity  befell  them  in  Grindlay's 
fire,  in  which  they  lost  everything  they  had  in  the 
world,  except  the  few  personal  belongings  in  their 


ffernan&o  |po  179 

lodgings.  All  Burton's  manuscripts  were  destroyed. 
He  took  it  philosophically  enough,  and  said,  "  Well,  it 
is  a  great  bore  ;  but  I  dare  say  that  the  world  will  be 
none  the  worse  for  some  of  the  manuscripts  having 
been  burnt."  His  wife  notes  this  as  "  a  prophetic 
speech "  ;  and  so  it  was,  when  we  remember  the  fate 
of  The  Scented  Garden  thirty  years  after. 

The  London  season  came  to  an  end  sooner  in  those 
days  than  it  does  now,  and  the  end  of  June  found  the 
Burtons  embarked  on  a  round  of  visits  in  country 
houses.  One  of  the  houses  they  visited  at  the  time  was 
Fryston,  Lord  Houghton's,  and  here  they  met  many 
of  the  most  celebrated  people  of  the  day ;  for  wit  and 
beauty,  rank  and  talent,  met  on  common  ground  around 
the  table  of  him  "whom  men  call  Lord  Houghton, 
but  the  gods  Monckton  Milnes."  Isabel  always  looked 
back  on  these  first  seven  months  of  her  marriage  as 
the  happiest  of  her  life.  They  were  one  long  honey- 
moon, "  a  gre^t  oasis  "  ;  and  she  adds,  "  Even  if  I  had 
had  no  other,  it  would  have  been  worth  living  for." 
But  alas !  the  evil  day  of  parting  came  all  too  soon. 
In  August  Burton  had  to  sail  for  Fernando  Po — "  the 
Foreign  Office  grave,"  as  it  was  called — and  had  perforce 
to  leave  his  young  wife  behind  him.  She  went  down 
to  Liverpool  with  him  to  see  him  off,  and  the  agony 
of  that  first  parting  is  best  expressed  in  her  own 
words : 

"I  was  to  go  out,  not  now,  but  later,  and  then 
perhaps  not  to  land,  and  to  return  and  ply  up  and 
down  between  Madeira  and  TenerifFe  and  London  ; 
and  I,  knowing  he  had  Africa  at  his  back,  was  in  a 


i8o      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

constant  agitation  for  fear  of  his  doing  more  of  these 
explorations  into  unknown  lands.  There  were  about 
eighteen  men  (West  African  merchants),  and  everybody 
took  him  away  from  me,  and  he  had  made  me  promise 
that  if  I  was  allowed  to  go  on  board  and  see  him 
off  I  would  not  cry  and  unman  him.  It  was  blowing 
hard  and  raining.  There  was  one  man  who  was  incon- 
siderate enough  to  accompany  and  stick  to  us  the  whole 
time,  so  that  we  could  not  exchange  a  word.  (How  I 
hated  him !)  I  went  down  below,  and  unpacked  his 
things,  and  settled  his  cabin,  and  saw  to  the  arrange- 
ment of  his  luggage.  My  whole  life  and  soul  were  in 
that  good-bye,  and  I  found  myself  on  board  the  tug, 
which  flew  faster  and  faster  from  the  steamer.  I  saw  a 
white  handkerchief  go  up  to  his  face.  I  then  drove  to 
a  spot  where  I  could  see  the  steamer  till  she  became 
a  dot."  1 

Burton  was  absent  eighteen  months,  working  hard 
at  his  duties  as  Consul  on  the  west  coast  of  Africa. 
During  that  time  Isabel  lived  with  her  parents  at 
14,  Montagu  Place,  W.  It  was  a  hard  thing  to  be 
exiled  from  her  husband  ;  but  she  did  not  waste  her 
time  in  idle  repining.  Burton  left  her  plenty  of  work 
to  do,  and  she  did  it  thoroughly.  In  the  first  place,  she 
fought  hard,  though  unsuccessfully,  against  the  decision 
of  the  Bombay  Government  to  remove  Burton's  name 
from  the  Indian  Army  List.  In  the  next  place,  she 
arranged  for  the  publication  of  his  book  on  the 
Mormons.  Surely  not  a  very  congenial  task  for  a 

1  Life   of  Sir   Richard  Burton,  by  Isabel   his  wife,  voL   i., 
PP-  348.  349- 


jfernanfco  jpo  181 

young  wife  of  seven  months  with  an  absent  husband,  for 
the  book  was  largely  a  defence  of  polygamy  !  But  what- 
ever Burton  told  her  to  do  she  did.  She  also  executed 
his  divers  commissions  which  came  by  every  mail.  One 
of  them  was  to  go  to  Paris  in  January,  1862,  on  a 
special  mission,  to  present  to  the  Emperor  and  Empress 
of  the  French  some  relics  of  the  great  Napoleon — a 
lock  of  his  hair,  a  sketch  of  a  plaster  cast  taken  after 
his  death — which  had  come  into  the  possession  of  the 
Burton  family,  also  a  complete  set  of  Burton's  works, 
and  to  ask  for  an  audience  of  them.  She  left  her  letter 
and  presents  at  the  Tuileries,  and  her  audience  was  not 
granted.  She  blamed  herself  bitterly  at  the  time,  and 
put  the  failure  of  her  mission  of  courtesy  down  to 
"  want  of  experience  and  proper  friends  and  protection." 
But  the  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  she  ought  never  to 
have  been  sent  on  such  an  unnecessary  errand,  for  it 
was  not  one  in  which  she  or  any  one  could  have  been 
expected  to  succeed.  Nevertheless  Burton's  relatives 
made  themselves  very  unpleasant  about  it,  and  worried 
Isabel  most  cruelly  concerning  the  loss  of  their  trifling 
relics.  And  it  may  be  remarked  here  that  Burton's  near 
relatives,  both  his  sister  and  his  niece,  always  disliked 
Isabel,  and  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  girding  against 
her.  One  of  them  has  even  carried  this  rancorous 
hostility  beyond  the  grave.  These  ladies  were  jealous 
of  Isabel — -jealous  of  her  superior  social  position,  of  her 
beauty,  her  fascinations,  and  above  all  jealous  of  her 
influence  over  her  husband.  Why  this  should  have 
been  so  it  is  impossible  to  say,  for  Burton  did  not  get 
on  very  well  with  his  relatives,  and  made  a  point  of 


182      ZTbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

seeing  as  little  of  them  as  possible.  Perhaps  they 
thought  it  was  Isabel  who  kept  him  away  ;  but  it  was 
not.  Fortunately  it  is  not  necessary  to  enter  into  the 
details  of  a  sordid  family  squabble.  To  do  so  would 
be  to  weary,  and  not  to  edify. 

Following  the  annoyance  to  which  she  was  subjected 
by  her  husband's  relatives  came  another  of  a  different 
nature.  There  were  many  who  heard,  and  some  who 
repeated,  rumours  against  Burton  which  had  been 
circulated  by  Speke  and  others.  One  candid  friend 
made  it  his  business  to  retail  some  of  these  to  Isabel 
(one  to  the  effect  that  her  husband  was  "  keeping  a 
seraglio "  out  at  Fernando  Po),  and  gave  her  a  good 
deal  of  gratuitous  and  sympathetic  advice  as  to  how 
she  ought  to  act.  But  Isabel  refused  to  listen  to  any- 
thing against  her  husband,  and  spurned  the  sympathy 
and  advice,  declaring  that  "any  one  who  could  listen 
to  such  lying  tales  was  no  friend  of  hers,"  and  she 
closed  the  acquaintance  forthwith. 

Despite  her  brave  words  there  is  no  doubt  that 
she  fretted  a  good  deal  through  the  months  that  fol- 
lowed. Her  depression  was  further  aggravated  by  a 
sharp  attack  of  diphtheria.  One  day  in  October,  when 
she  could  bear  the  loneliness  and  separation  from  her 
husband  no  longer,  she  went  down  to  the  Foreign 
Office,  and  cried  her  heart  out  to  Sir  Henry  (then 
Mr.)  Layard.  Her  distress  touched  the  official's 
heart,  for  he  asked  her  to  wait  while  he  went  upstairs. 
Presently  Mr.  Layard  came  back,  saying  he  had  got 
four  months'  leave  for  Burton,  and  had  ordered  the 
dispatch  to  be  sent  off  that  very  afternoon.  She  says, 


jfernan&o  jpo  183 

"  I  could  have  thrown  my  arms  around  his  neck  and 
kissed  him,  but  I  did  not ;  he  might  have  been 
surprised.  I  had  to  go  and  sit  out  in  the  Green  Park 
till  the  excitement  wore  off;  it  was  more  to  me  than  if 
he  had  given  me  a  large  fortune." 

In  December  Burton  returned  home  after  an 
absence  of  eighteen  months,  and  his  wife  went  to 
Liverpool  to  meet  him.  We  may  imagine  her  joy. 
Christmas  was  spent  at  Wardour  Castle  (Lord 
Arundell's),  a  large  family  gathering ;  then  they  went 
to  Garswood  to  stay  with  Lord  Gerard  ;  he  was  Isabel's 
uncle,  and  always  her  staunch  friend. 

Burton's  leave  sped  all  too  soon ;  and  when  the 
time  came  for  his  departure,  his  wife  told  him  that  she 
could  not  possibly  go  on  living  as  she  had  been  living. 
"  One's  husband  in  a  place  where  I  am  not  allowed  to 
go,  and  I  living  with  my  mother  like  a  girl.  I  am 
neither  maid,  nor  wife,  nor  widow."  So  he  arranged 
to  take  her  with  him  as  far  as  Teneriffe  at  any  rate. 
As  they  were  to  leave  from  Liverpool,  they  stayed  at 
Garswood,  which  was  hard  by,  until  the  day  came  for 
them  to  sail. 


CHAPTER  II1 

MADEIRA 

(1863) 

The  smallest  bark  on  life's  tumultuous  ocean 
Will  leave  a  track  behind  for  evermore; 

The  slightest  wave  of  influence  set  in  motion 
Extends  and  widens  to  the  eternal  shore. 

I  STARTED  from  Liverpool  on  a  bleak  morning 
in  January  with  many  a  "  God-speed,"  and  in 
possession  of  many  aids  to  enjoyment,  youth,  health, 
strength,  and  the  society  of  a  dearly  loved  husband, 
whose  companionship  is  a  boon  not  often  bestowed 
upon  mortals  in  this  nether  world. 

After  the  inevitable  wettings  from  spray,  and  the  rope 
which  gets  wrong,  and  the  hat  which  blows  over,  and 
the  usual  amount  of  hilarity — as  if  it  were  a  new  thing 
— at  the  dishevelled  head  of  one's  fellow-creature,  we 
set  foot  on  board  the  African  steamship  Spartan  at 
i  p.m.  We  had  still  two  hours  in  the  Mersey,  so 
we  formed  a  little  knot  on  deck,  and  those  who  knew 
Richard  gathered  around  us.  There  was  much  joking 

1  The  chapters  on  Madeira  and  Teneriffe  are  compiled  from 
manuscripts  which  Lady  Burton  wrote  on  her  return  from  Teneriffe 
in  1863,  but  which  her  husband  would  not  allow  her  to  publish. 

184 


fl&afcefra  185 

as  to  the  dirty  weather  we  should  meet  outside  (how 
dirty  we  of  the  land  little  guessed),  and  as  to  Admiral 
Fitzroy's  "  biggest  storm  that  was  ever  known,"  as  duly 
announced  in  the  Times,  for  the  3<Dth,  which  we  were 
to  meet  in  "  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  O  !  "  There  were 
pleasant  speculations  as  to  how  I  should  enjoy  my 
dinner,  whether  ham  and  eggs  would  become  my 
favourite  nourishment,  and  so  forth.  At  2.30  p.m.  we 
nearly  ran  into  a  large  brig  ;  the  steamer  was  in  the 
pilot's  charge,  but  our  captain  coming  on  deck  saved  us 
with  a  close  shave.  We  should  certainly  have  got  the 
worst  of  it  in  two  seconds  more.  Of  course  it  was  the 
brig's  fault  ;  she  didn't  answer  her  helm  ;  and,  to  use 
the  captain's  phrase,  the  pilot  and  mate  were  a  little 
"  agitated  "  when  his  calm  "  Put  the  helm  down  " 
made  us  only  slightly  graze  each  other  and  glide  off 
again.  We  put  on  full  speed  and  out  to  sea,  as  six 
bells  (three  o'clock)  told  on  my  landlubber  ears.  Before 
four  o'clock  (dining  hour)  I  had  faintly  asked  the 
stewardess  to  help  me  to  shake  myself  down  in  my 
berth,  and  unpack  the  few  articles  I  might  want  during 
the  voyage.  /  did  not  dine. 

Sunday,  25^,  i  a.m. — It  blew  a  whole  gale,  with 
tremendous  sea  ;  ship  labouring  heavily,  and  shipping 
very  heavy  seas  on  deck  ;  pumps  at  work.  We  were 
making  little  or  no  way  down  Channel,  when  we 
suddenly  shipped  a  heavy  sea,  washing  overboard  a 
quartermaster,  and  sending  our  captain  into  the  lee 
scuppers  with  a  sprained  wrist.  We  stopped,  and 
reversed  engines,  but  could  not  see  the  poor  fellow  ; 
and  to  lower  a  boat  in  such  a  sea  was  impossible. 


1 86      Ube  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcs  JBurton 

He  was   a   married   man,    and   had   left   his   wife   at 
Liverpool. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  horrors  of  that  night. 
Every  berth  was  full ;  so  much  so  that  our  captain, 
with  a  chivalry  and  forgetfulness  of  self  which  deserves 
recording  in  letters  of  gold,  gave  up  his  own  cabin  to 
Richard  and  myself,  that  we  might  not  be  separated 
an  hour  sooner  than  necessity  compelled  us  to  be,  and 
encountered  the  fatigue  of  his  long  duties  on  deck,  and 
the  discomforts  and  anxieties  of  ten  days'  bad  weather, 
with  no  shelter  but  a  chance  berth  or  the  saloon  sofa. 
During  that  night  one  tremendous  sea  stove  in  the 
doors  of  the  main  cabin,  filling  the  saloon  and  berths 
with  water.  The  lights  were  extinguished ;  things 
came  unshipped  ;  all  the  little  comforts  and  treasures 
were  floating  at  the  top,  leaving  few  dry  garments  out 
of  the  "  hold,"  which  would  not  be  opened  till  our 
arrival  at  Madeira.  There  arose  on  that  confused 
night  a  Babel  of  sounds  ;  strong  language  from  the 
men-sufferers,  conjuring  the  steward  to  bring  lights, 
and  the  weaker  sex  calling  for  their  protectors,  and 
endeavouring  to  find  them  in  the  dark.  One  young 
and  pretty  little  woman,  almost  a  child,  recently  married, 
in  her  fright  rushed  into  the  saloon  in  her  nightdress, 
calling  for  her  husband.  A  brutal  voice  answered  her 
in  the  chaos  that  she  need  never  hope  to  see  him  again, 
for  he  had  "  fallen  overboard  "  and  was  "  clinging  on 
outside."  The  poor  little  creature  (she  was  only 
sixteen)  believed  the  voice,  and,  with  the  energy  of 
despair,  forced  the  door  of  her  husband's  cabin,  and 
there  she  remained  with  him,  and  ere  long  had  an 


flfoafceira  187 

epileptic  fit,  and  also  another  during  the  first  ten  days, 
doubtless  accelerated  by  this  act  of  brutality.  I  regret 
to  say  it  was  committed  by  a  naval  officer  who  was 
tipsy.  Another  sonorous  voice  bid  us  "  die  like 
Christians  "  ;  but  I  don't  think  that  was  any  sentiment 
of  the  speaker's.  Ever  and  anon  the  dismal  scene  was 
interlarded  with  "  short  and  crisp  "  sentences,  not  com- 
forting, such  as,  "  We  can't  live  long  in  such  a  sea  as 
this  "  ;  "  We're  going  to  the  bad  "  ;  "  Won't  the  captain 
put  into  Holyhead  ?  "  "  There  go  the  pumps — we've 
seven  feet  of  water  in  the  hold  "  (when  we  stopped  and 
reversed,  to  try  and  rescue  the  quartermaster)  ;  "  The 
water  has  got  into  our  engines,  and  we  can't  go  on  "  ; 
"  There's  the  carpenter  hammering — the  captain's  cabin 
is  stove  in,"  etc.,  etc.  A  rich  lady  gave  the  stewardess 
^5  to  hold  her  hand  all  night,  so  the  rest  of  us  poorer 
ones  had  to  do  without  that  matron's  ministrations. 

I  crawled  to  my  cabin,  and,  as  I  lay  there  trembling 
and  sea-sick,  something  tumbled  against  the  door, 
rolled  in,  and  sank  on  the  floor.  It  was  the  tipsy  naval 
officer.  I  could  not  rise,  I  could  not  shut  the  door,  I 
could  not  tug  him  out ;  so  I  lay  there.  When  Richard, 
who  was  lending  a  hand  at  the  pumps,  had  finished  his 
work,  he  crawled  along  the  decks  till  he  got  to  the 
cabin,  where  the  sea  had  swamped  through  the  open 
door  pretty  considerably.  "  Hullo  !  What's  that  ?  "  he 
said.  I  managed  faintly  to  ejaculate,  "  The  tipsy  naval 
officer."  He  picked  him  up  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck, 
and,  regardless  of  consequences,  he  propelled  him  with 
a  good  kick  behind  all  down  the  deck,  and  shut  the 
door.  He  said,  °  The  captain  says  we  can't  live  more 


1  88      trbe  Romance  of  Isabel  Za&s  Kurton 


than  two  hours  in  such  a  sea  as  this."  At  first  I  had 
been  frightened  that  I  should  die,  but  now  I  was  only 
frightened  that  I  shouldn't,  and  I  uttered  feebly,  "  Oh, 
thank  God  it  will  be  over  so  soon  !  "  I  shall  never 
forget  how  angry  he  was  with  me  because  I  was  not 
frightened,  and  gave  me  quite  a  sermon. 

On  Thursday,  the  29th,  we  skirted  the  Bay  of  Biscay, 
and  the  ship  rolled  heavily.  I  was  very  much  impressed 
by  the  grandeur  of  the  gigantic  billows  of  the  Atlantic 
while  skirting  the  Bay,  not  short,  chopping  waves, 
such  as  I  had  seen  in  the  Channel  and  Mediterranean, 
but  more  like  the  undulations  of  a  prairie,  a  high  rising 
ground  surrounding  you  at  a  distance,  and,  while  you 
are  in  its  depression,  shutting  out  all  from  your  view, 
until  the  next  long  roller  makes  you  reverse  the 
position,  and  feel  "  monarch  of  all  you  survey,"  or, 
rather,  liken  yourself  to  a  midge  in  a  walnut  shell  —  so 
deeply  are  you  impressed  by  the  size  and  force  of  the 
waves,  the  smallness  of  yourself  and  ship,  and  the 
magnitude  of  the  Almighty  power.  About  four  o'clock 
the  sea  grew  more  and  more  inky,  and  it  was  evidently 
brewing  up  for  Admiral  Fitzroy's  storm,  which  soon 
came  and  lasted  us  till  Saturday  ;  and  those  who  had 
ventured  to  raise  their  heads  from  their  sea-sick  pillows 
had  to  lay  them  down  again. 

Saturday  ,  3U/.  —  We  had  been  a  week  at  sea,  and 
for  the  first  time  it  began  to  get  fine  and  enjoyable. 
We  were  due  this  day  at  Madeira  ;  but  on  account 
of  the  gales  delaying  us,  it  was  not  possible  that  we 
should  land  before  Monday.  The  next  day,  Sunday, 
was  truly  pleasant.  Our  passengers  were  a  curious 


189 

mixture.  Out  of  the  seven  ladies  on  board,  two  were 
wives  of  Protestant  missionaries,  excellent  men,  who 
had  done  good  service  of  their  kind  at  Sierra  Leone 
and  Abeokuta,  and  were  returning  with  young  and 
pretty  wives.  The  thirty-two  men  passengers  were  of 
all  kinds — military,  naval,  official,  clergymen,  invalids, 
five  black  people,  and  "  Coast  Lambs,"  as  the  palm-oil 
merchants  are  ironically  termed.  We  formed  a  little 
knot  of  a  picked  half-dozen  at  the  top  of  the  table,  and 
"  feeding  time  "  was  the  principal  event  of  the  day. 

A  laughable  incident  occurred  one  day  on  board  at 
dinner.  There  was  a  very  simple-minded  Quaker,  with 
a  large  hat,  who  had  evidently  been  browsing  on  the 
heather  in  the  north  all  his  life,  and  on  this  occasion  a 
fine  plum-pudding,  swimming  in  lighted  brandy,  was 
put  upon  the  table  at  second  course.  The  poor  Quaker 
had  never  seen  this  dish  before,  and  in  a  great  state  of 
excitement  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  my  God  !  the  pudding's 
on  fire  !  "  and  clapped  his  large  hat  over  the  pudding, 
and  put  it  out,  amidst  roars  of  laughter,  which  had  to 
be  explained  to  him  when  his  fright  was  over.  After 
dinner  we  formed  whist  parties.  In  fine  weather 
cushions  and  railway-rugs  covered  the  deck,  and  knots 
of  loungers  gathered  under  gigantic  umbrellas,  reading 
or  talking  or  working,  and  also  in  the  evening  moon- 
light, when  the  missionaries  chanted  hymns.  On 
Sunday  there  was  Protestant  service  in  the  saloon, 
and  those  of  other  faiths  did  their  private  devotions 
on  deck. 

Monday  morning,  February  2.  —  We  dropped  our 
anchor  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  town  of  Funchal. 


190      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

We  rose  at  six,  had  a  cup  of  coffee,  packed  up  our 
water-proof  bags,  and  went  on  deck  to  get  a  first 
glimpse  of  Madeira.  A  glorious  sight  presented  itself, 
producing  a  magical  effect  upon  the  cold,  wet,  dirty, 
sea-sick  passenger  who  had  emerged  from  his  atrocious 
native  climate  but  ten  days  before.  Picture  to  yourself 
a  deep  blue  sky,  delicately  tinted  at  the  horizon, 
not  a  cloud  to  be  seen,  the  ocean  as  blue  as  the 
Mediterranean.  There  was  a  warm  sun,  and  a  soft  and 
sweet-smelling  breeze  from  the  land,  as  of  aromatic 
herbs.  Arising  out  of  the  bosom  of  the  ocean  in 
splendour,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  but  looking  infinitely 
less  distant,  were  dark  mountain  masses  with  fantastic 
peaks  and  wild,  rugged  sides,  sharply  defined  against  the 
sky  and  streaked  with  snow,  making  them  resemble  the 
fanciful  castles  and  peaks  we  can  imagine  in  the  clouds. 
The  coast  to  the  sea  is  thick  with  brilliant  vegetation ; 
dark  soil — basalt  and  red  tufa  are  its  colours — with  the 
variegated  green  of  fir,  chestnut,  dark  pine  forests,  and 
the  gaudy  sugar-cane.  Here  and  there  a  belt  of  firs 
runs  up  a  mountain,  winding  like  a  serpent,  and  is  its 
only  ornament.  Wild  geraniums,  and  other  flowers 
which  only  grow  in  a  hothouse  in  England,  and  badly 
too,  are  in  wild  luxuriance  here.  The  island  appears  to 
be  dotted  everywhere  with  churches,  villas,  and  hamlets 
— little  gardens  and  patches  of  trees  intermingled  with 
them.  There  are  three  immense  ravines,  deep  and 
dark ;  and  these  with  all  the  pleasant  additions  of 
birds,  butterflies,  and  flowers  of  every  sort  and  colour, 
a  picturesque,  good-humoured  peasantry  busy  on  the 
beach,  and  a  little  fleet  of  fishing-boats,  with  their  large 


white  lagoon  sails,  like  big  white  butterflies  on  the 
blue  water.  Most  of  the  capes  are  immense  precipices 
of  rock. 

Nestling  at  the  toot  of  this  mountain  amphitheatre, 
and  washed  by  the  bay,  straggling  lengthways  and  up 
and  down,  is  Funchal,  with  its  brilliant  white  houses  and 
green  facings  glittering  in  the  sun.  You  almost  wonder 
whether  your  last  unpleasant  three  months  in  England 
and  your  ten  days'  voyage  had  been  reality  ;  whether 
you  had  not  been  supping  upon  cold  fish,  and  had  just 
awakened  from  a  clammy  nightmare  to  a  day  such  as 
the  Almighty  meant  our  days  to  be,  such  was  one's 
sense  of  vitality  and  immense  power  of  enjoyment  at 
the  change. 

The  landing  was  great  fun,  the  running  of  the  boats 
upon  the  beach  being  very  difficult  in  a  heavy  surge. 
Richard  and  I  managed  to  land,  however,  without  a 
wetting,  and  went  to  the  hotel. 

When  we  had  unpacked,  eaten,  and  bathed,  and  had 
begun  to  shake  off  the  desagremens  of  our  bad  voyage, 
we  had  time  to  enjoy  a  pleasant,  lazy  day,  lounging 
about,  and  luxuriating  in  our  happy  change  from 
England  and  the  ship.  Later  on  in  the  day  there  was 
a  little  mist  over  the  mountains,  like  the  soft  muslin 
veil  thrown  over  a  beautiful  bride,  shading  her  brilliant 
beauty,  greatly  to  her  advantage,  leaving  a  little  of 
it  to  the  imagination.  I  beg  a  bride's  pardon.  How 
could  there  be  a  bride  without  a  Brussels  lace  veil  ? 
Shall  I  change  the  simile  to  that  of  a  first  communicant, 
and  compare  the  belt  of  white  thin  cloud  below  the 
mountains,  and  that  delicate  mist,  which  throws  such 


192      TCbe  Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  jBurton 

enchanting  shadows  on  the  mountain-sides  and  preci- 
pices, to  the  "  dim  religious  light  "  of  the  sunset  hour, 
when  the  lamp  is  replenished  ?  For  the  sun  is  setting, 
and  bathes  the  sea  and  coast  in  a  glorious  light,  deepens 
the  shade  of  the  ravines,  and  shows  off  the  dark,  luxu- 
riant foliage. 

I  can  only  venture  upon  describing  a  few  of  the 
excursions  we  were  able  to  make  during  our  stay 
at  Madeira. 

We  started  one  fine  morning  in  a  boat  with  four 
oars  and  rowed  from  Funchal,  coasting  along  near 
the  cliff  to  Machico,  which  is  twelve  miles.  Our 
men  were  chatty  and  communicative,  and  informed  us 
that  the  devil  came  there  at  night  when  they  were  out 
fishing  (I  suppose  originally  the  ingenious  device  of  a 
smuggler)  ;  and  their  superstition  was  genuine.  We 
had  two  hours  of  rough  walking,  when  we  arrived 
at  Machico,  and  marched  through  the  town  with  a 
hundred  followers,  all  clamouring  for  money.  We 
rejoined  our  boat  at  4  p.m.,  in  the  greatest  clatter  of 
talk  and  laugh  I  ever  heard.  Our  sailors,  elated  by 
two  shillings'-worth  of  bad  wine,  were  very  chatty  and 
vocal.  We  put  up  a  sail,  but  there  was  not  breeze 
enough  to  fill  it.  We  chatted  and  read  alternately; 
watched  the  beautiful  hour  that  struggles  between  day 
and  night — beautiful  to  the  happy,  and  much  to  be 
dreaded  to  the  desolate.  The  setting  sun  bathed  the 
dark  basalt  and  red  tufa  cliffs  in  his  red  and  purple 
glory.  The  straggling  white  town  glittered  in  the  clear 
and  brilliant  light,  with  its  dark  green  background. 
The  mountain-edges  were  sharp  against  the  clear,  soft 


flfcafcetra  193 

sky.  That  indescribable  atmosphere  which  blackens 
the  ravines  and  softens  all  the  other  beauties  came  over 
the  island.  The  evening  star  was  as  large  and  brilliant 
as  the  Koh-i-noor  ;  and  the  full  moon,  rising  gradually 
from  behind  Cape  Garajao,  poured  its  beams  down  the 
mountain,  and  threw  its  track  upon  the  sea.  As  we 
neared  Funchal  the  aromatic  smell  of  the  land  was 
wafted  toward  us,  and  with  it  a  sound  of  the  tinkling 
of  bells  ;  and  a  procession  of  torches  wound  like  a 
serpent  out  of  a  church  on  a  rock  overhanging  the 
sea.  It  was  the  Blessed  Sacrament  being  carried  to  a 
dying  man. 

Our  second  boat  excursion  was  to  Cape  Giram,  a 
cliff  some  two  thousand  feet  high,  with  the  appearance 
of  having  been  originally  a  high  hill,  cut  in  two  by 
some  convulsion  of  Nature.  There  was  a  lovely  water- 
fall, and  its  silvery  foam  absolutely  looked  artificial, 
like  the  cascade  of  a  theatre,  as  it  streamed  incessantly 
down  a  bed  of  long  grass  of  a  very  pretty  green,  which 
it  seemed  to  have  made  for  itself  to  course  down.  I 
had  no  idea  of  the  height;  but  having  suddenly  ex- 
claimed to  Richard,  who  was  my  maztre-d'armes,  "  I 
wish  I  had  brought  my  pistols  with  me,  I  should  like 
to  pick  off  those  two  gulls,"  to  my  horror,  our 
boatman  hailed  somebody,  and  a  small  voice  echoed 
back.  ^  The  "  gulls  "  were  two  Portuguese  peasants 
gathering  herbs  for  their  cow. 

Our  last  expedition,  and  best,  was  to  Pico  Arriere, 
the  second  highest  point  in  the  island.  We  had  wished 
very  much  to  ascend  the  highest,  but  that  involved 
the  six  days'  excursion,  which  we  could  not  do ;  so  we 

VOL.  i.  13 


194      ^be  "Romance  ot  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

resolved  to  try  the  second,  faufe  de  mieux,  which  could 
be  done  without  sleeping  out.  With  the  usual  horses 
and  guides  we  started  from  Funchal,  and  proceeded  to 
ascend. 

After  an  hour  and  a  half  we  come  to  a  little 
eminence,  and  the  rough  work  is  going  to  commence. 
The  air  begins  to  change  wonderfully.  The  horizon 
now  assumes  the  punch- bowl  shape  ;  and  I,  standing 
on  one  side  of  the  imaginary  basin,  but  not  quite  so 
high  as  the  rim,  describe  my  impressions.  Behind  and 
above  us  were  the  peaks,  around  us  the  mountains 
clad  with  forests ;  a  fine,  bold  shore,  with  its  high 
basalt  and  tufa  cliffs  ;  a  long  way  below  us  the  quintas, 
gardens,  farms,  thatched  huts,  little  patches  of  sugar- 
cane of  an  enchanting  green,  fields  looking  very  small, 
dwarf  plains,  watercourses,  cascades,  channels,  and  deep, 
abrupt  ravines  ;  the  beautiful  little  town  at  the  bottom 
of  the  basin,  and  the  roadstead  ;  the  open  sea,  with 
white  sails  glittering  on  the  blue  water,  appears  to  be 
running  up  the  other  side  ;  the  Desertas  seemingly 
hanging  midway  between  heaven  and  earth ;  and 
crowned  by  a  glorious  sky,  warm  sun,  pure  air,  and 
sea-breeze.  I  feel  so  glad,  I  could  shout  Hallelujah 
for  joy.  The  horses  have  breathed  while  I  made  these 
mental  notes,  and  now  we  start  again  on  the  hard  and 
broken  road,  which  seems  interminable.  The  horses 
don't  like  the  cold,  nor  the  men  either.  We  do ! 
(We  have  been  some  time  in  the  snow,  which  descends 
to  the  unusual  depth  of  three  thousand  feet.)  The 
horses  make  a  stand,  and  we  dismount  and  walk  (it 
appeared  an  immense  way)  till  the  road  ceases  and 


195 

the  actual  mountain  ascent  begins.  One  guide  wraps 
his  head  up  in  a  red  silk  handkerchief,  and  will  go  no 
farther  ;  the  other  sulks,  and  says  it  is  dangerous — the 
path  is  lost,  and  we  shall  fall  into  drifts  ;  but  finding 
us  resolved,  Sulks  consents  to  go,  and  Red  Cap  stops, 
shivering,  with  the  horses,  which  are  rearing  and 
kicking,  for  the  cold  makes  them  playful. 

So,  pike  in  hand,  Richard  and  I  and  Sulks  begin  the 
ascent,  which  lasts  about  one  hour  and  a  half— through 
two  feet  of  snow,  with  several  falls  on  my  part,  and 
sometimes  crawling  on  hands  and  knees — during  which, 
however,  we  could  see  Sta.  Anna  and  the  sea  at  the  other 
side,  and  many  of  the  mountains  and  gorges.  When 
nearly  at  the  top,  we  saw,  with  horror,  thick  black 
clouds  rolling  up  to  envelop  us,  travelling  fast,  and 
looking  like  a  snowstorm.  At  last,  when  we  were 
5,593  feet  high,  only  300  feet  below  the  summit  of 
the  Pico,  which  is  5,893  feet,  there  came  a  mighty 
wind.  We  threw  ourselves  down  to  prevent  being 
blown  off,  and  then  the  clouds  rolled  in  upon  us,  and 
shut  off  all  view  of  the  Pico  and  our  way,  so  that  it 
was  difficult  to  proceed  without  incurring  danger  of 
accidents.  We  scrambled  to  a  projection  of  rock  (the 
only  thing  we  could  see),  and  sat  on  it ;  and  from  our 
canteen,  which  had  been  slung  to  Sulks,  we  ate  our 
lunch,  and  iced  our  claret ;  and  when  we  had  finished 
we  agreed  to  grope  our  way  slowly  down.  We  managed 
it  (often  in  a  sitting  position),  occasionally  making 
some  false  step  for  want  of  being  able  to  see  ;  we  had 
no  feeling  in  our  hands  and  feet.  We  found  Red 
Cap  eventually,  who  had  moved  down  to  warmer 


196      ftbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

latitudes,  and  was  sulking  and  shivering,  more  so 
because,  as  he  declined  going,  he  forfeited  his  lunch, 
drink,  and  cigarette.  We  walked  back  until  at  some 
distance  above  the  Mount  church  (feeling  warmer 
and  drier  every  moment  as  we  descended),  where  we 
mounted  and  resumed  those  delightful  baskets.  The 
excursion  occupied  about  seven  and  a  half  hours. 

The  time  came  all  too  soon  for  us  to  leave  Madeira, 
and  on  March  4  we  embarked  for  Santa  Cruz, 
Teneriffe,  whence  alarming  reports  of  yellow  fever 
had  reached  our  ears.  By  the  same  boat  on  which 
we  had  embarked  came  letters  and  papers  from  home. 
My  news  from  home  was  very  sad.  My  dear  mother, 
who,  though  in  weak  health,  had  come  down  to 
Liverpool  to  see  us  off,  and  who  bore  up  bravely 
till  the  last,  had  just  time,  after  wishing  us  good-bye, 
to  get  back  to  Garswood  (Uncle  Gerard's),  when  the 
attack  of  paralysis,  so  long  threatened,  came  upon  her. 
Fortunately  there  was  no  immediate  danger,  but  the 
news  was  a  great  shock  to  me.  I  spent  the  day  apart 
from  the  rest,  who  were  merry  unto  noisiness  ;  and  I 
was  right  glad  when  tea-time  rang  all  hands  below, 
and  I  occupied  a  quiet  corner  on  deck,  where  I  could 
shed  my  tears  unseen,  and  enjoy  my  favourite  twilight 
hour. 

The  sky  was  clear,  with  a  rough  sea,  over  which  the 
white  horses  predominated.  Men-of-war  and  fishing- 
boats  were  at  anchor  around  us.  The  sun  had  just 
set ;  the  evening  star's  pale  light  was  stealing  over  us. 
Presently  the  full  moon  rose  behind  Cape  Garajao. 
I  bade  good-bye  to  Madeira  and  every  object  with 


197 

regret,  straining  my  eyes  from  right  to  left,  up  and 
down,  and  all  around,  not  from  any  silly  sentiment, 
but  because  I  always  feel  a  species  of  gratitude  to  a 
place  where  I  have  been  happy.  The  black  and  red 
cliffs,  the  straggling  town,  the  sugar-canes,  gardens, 
forests,  flowers,  the  mountain-peaks  and  ravines — each 
separate,  well-known  object  received  its  adieu. 

I  knew  when  I  saw  Madeira  again  it  would  be  under 
far  less  happy  circumstances.  I  should  be  alone,  on 
my  way  back  to  England,  and  my  beloved  Richard  at 
deadly  Fernando  Po.  This  fading,  fairy  panorama  of 
Madeira,  which  had  once  made  me  so  happy,  now 
saddened  me  ;  and  the  last  track  of  moonlight,  as  it 
poured  its  beams  down  the  mountains  on  the  water, 
saw  some  useless  tears. 


CHAPTER  III 

TENERIFFE 
(1863) 

I  went  up  into  the  infinite  solitudes.  I  saw  the  sunrise  gleaming  on  the 
mountain-peaks.  I  felt  myself  nearer  the  stars — I  seemed  almost  to  be  in 
sympathy  and  communion  with  them. 

IBSEN. 

THE  first  sight  of  Santa  Cruz  (where  we  arrived 
next  morning)  is  disappointing.  When  you  see 
it  from  the  deck  of  your  ship,  looking  from  right  to 
left,  you  see  a  red,  brown,  and  yellow  coast,  barren  grey 
mountains,  and  ravines.  The  mountains,  being  exposed 
to  much  wind,  present  the  most  curious,  harsh,  and 
fantastic  outline  against  the  sky.  These  are  called 
Passo  Alto  (a  child  would  guess  their  volcanic  origin); 
they  are  wide  irregular  masses  of  rock,  as  desolate  and 
savage  as  can  be  imagined.  Close  to  the  water  is  a 
flat,  whitewashed  town,  which  always  looks  in  a  white 
heat.  The  only  two  high  buildings  are  churches. 
The  town  bristled  with  cannon  near  the  sea.  The 
mountains,  which  are  close  to  the  town  on  the  right, 
and  shut  it  off",  were  covered  with  round,  bushy,  and 
compact  green  splotches,  which  were  in  reality  good- 
sized  fig  trees.  Behind  the  town  is  a  steep  rising 

198 


ITenertffe  199 

mountain,  with  a  good  winding  road ;  to  the  left  of  it 
is  a  regiment  of  windmills  drawn  up  in  line,  as  if  wait- 
ing for  Don  Quixote ;  and  in  the  distance,  still  on 
the  left,  and  extending  away  from  you,  are  masses  of 
mountains,  and  hanging  over  them  is  a  little  haze  in 
the  sky,  which  might  be  a  little  woolly  cloud,  sugar- 
loaf  in  shape,  which  you  are  told  is  the  Peak  of 
Teneriffe.  The  sky,  the  sea,  the  atmosphere  are  perfect, 
and  far  surpassing  Madeira.  Most  exhilarating  is  the 
sensation  thereof.  The  island,  saving  one  pass,  is 
covered  with  small  barren  hills,  some  of  them  conical, 
some  like  Primrose  Hill,  only  much  bigger,  which  are, 
I  am  told,  the  small  disturbances  of  volcanoes. 

These  were  my  first  impressions  as  we  were  rowed  to 
a  little  quay  in  a  little  boat,  and  a  dozen  boys  took 
our  dozen  packages ;  and  a  small  walk  brought  us  to 
Richardson's  Hotel,  as  it  was,  a  funny,  old,  broken- 
down  place,  with  a  curious  interior,  an  uncomfortable 
picturesque  remnant  of  Spanish-Moorish  grandeur  and 
style,  better  to  sketch  than  to  sleep  and  feed  in.  There 
was  a  large  patio,  or  courtyard,  and  a  broad  carved  oak 
staircase,  and  tiers  of  large  balconies  to  correspond, 
running  all  round  the  interior  of  the  house,  into  which 
galleries  the  rooms  open.  Green  creepers  covered  the 
roof  and  balcony,  and  hung  over,  falling  into  the  patio , 
giving  it  an  ancient  and  picturesque  look,  like  an  old 
ruin.  Rita,  a  peasant  woman,  came  out  to  wait  upon 
me,  in  a  long  white  mantilla,  topped  by  a  black  felt 
Spanish  wide-awake,  a  comfortable-looking  woman,  but 
neither  young  nor  pretty.  The  food  was  as  poor  and 
ancient  as  the  hotel,  and  the  servants  to  match.  I 


200      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Zafcg  JSurton 

could  imagine  the  garlicked  sausages  to  have  been  a 
remnant  left  in  a  mouldy  cupboard  by  some  im- 
poverished hidalgo  of  a  hundred  years  back. 

Richard  wanted  to  pass  a  few  days  here,  but  I 
suggested  that,  as  the  yellow  fever  was  raging,  and 
as  Santa  Cruz  and  all  round  could  be  seen  in  three 
or  four  days,  we  should  do  it  on  return,  and 
meantime  seek  some  purer  abode,  lest  a  yellow-fever 
bed  or  infected  baggage  should  Jay  us  low  ;  so  we 
voted  for  Laguna,  or  rather  San  Christoval  de  la 
Laguna,  a  large  town  fifteen  hundred  feet  above  sea- 
level,  and  consequently  above  fever-range  ;  and  we 
ordered  the  hotel  carriage  at  once. 

The  vehicle  was  the  skeleton  of  the  first  vehicle 
that  was  ever  made — perhaps  the  one  Noah  provided  in 
the  Ark  to  drive  his  family  down  Mount  Ararat  when 
it  became  dry — no  springs,  windows,  blinds,  lining,  or 
anything  save  the  actual  wood  ;  three  mules  abreast, 
rope,  reins  and  driver  all  ancient  to  match.  We  found 
a  crowd  of  men  wringing  their  hands  at  the  amount  of 
small  baggage  to  be  packed  away  in  it,  swearing  they 
could  not  and  would  not  try  to  put  it  in.  Always  leave 
these  men  to  themselves.  After  loud  vociferation, 
swearing,  and  quarrelling,  they  packed  it  beautifully, 
and  we  were  stowed  away  on  the  top  of  it,  and  rattled 
out  of  the  town  at  a  good  pace,  up  a  winding  road, 
ascending  the  steep  country  behind  Santa  Cruz  towards 
Laguna.  As  we  rose  higher  we  had  a  splendid  view  of 
the  sea,  and  the  white  flat  town  with  its  two  solitary 
towers  lay  at  our  feet.  The  winding  road  was  propped 
up  with  walls  to  prevent  landslip  ;  the  mountains 


TTenetitfe  201 

looked  wild  and  rugged  ;  the  weather  was  perfect.  We 
met  troops  of  pretty  peasants  with  heavy  loads,  and  every 
here  and  there  a  picturesque  chapel  or  hermitage. 

Our  drive  was  pleasant  enough,  and  I  think  at  about 
3  p.m.  we  were  driving  hard  up  and  down  the  old 
Noah's-Ark-town  called  San  Christoval  de  la  Laguna. 
We  drove  to  three  inns.  Number  one  was  not  possible. 
Number  two,  something  like  it ;  where  they  were 
going  to  put  us  into  the  same  room  (perhaps  the  same 
bed — who  knows  ?)  with  a  sick  man  (maybe  a  con- 
valescent yellow-feverist).  We  held  a  parley  and 
consultation.  Was  it  possible  to  go  on  ?  No,  neither 
now  nor  to-morrow ;  for  the  new  road  was  being 
made,  the  old  one  broken  up,  and  the  coach  (which, 
by-the-way,  was  the  name  given  to  a  twin  vehicle  such 
as  ours)  was  not  allowed  to  run  farther  than  Sausal, 
three  miles  off,  from  which  we  had  twelve  miles  more 
to  accomplish  in  order  to  reach  the  valley  and  town 
of  Orotava — the  El  Dorado,  and  deservedly  so,  of 
Teneriffe.  We  did  not  like  to  descend  again  into  the 
heat  and  pestilence  of  Santa  Cruz.  Moreover,  we  had 
made  up  our  minds  (not  knowing  Laguna)  to  pass 
a  week  there,  and  had  ordered  our  muleteers  to  bring 
up  and  deposit  our  baggage  there. 

The  coachman  thought  he  knew  of  another  house 
where  we  might  get  a  room.  So  we  drove  to  the 
"  forlorn  hope,"  which  looked  as  bad  as  the  rest,  and 
were  at  first  refused.  The  patio  was  a  ruin,  full  of  mud 
and  broken  plantains,  the  village  idiot  and  the  pig 
huddled  up  in  one  corner.  In  fact,  the  whole  house 
was  a  ruin,  and  the  inevitable  carved-wood  balcony 


203      ttbe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Zaog  Burton 

looked  like  tawdry  finery  on  it.  The  landlady  was 
the  most  fiendish-looking  old  woman  I  have  ever  seen, 
with  sharp,  bad,  black  eyes.  She  exchanged  some  words 
in  a  whisper  with  three  or  four  ruffianly  looking  men, 
and  said  that  she  could  let  us  have  a  room,  but  only 
one.  Richard  went  up  to  inspect  it,  and  while  he  was 
gone,  and  I  was  left  alone,  the  village  idiot  worried 
and  frightened  me.  Our  quarters  consisted  of  a  small 
barnlike  room  with  raftered  ceiling,  a  floor  with  holes 
big  enough  to  slip  your  foot  through  into  the  court- 
yard, whitewashed  walls,  and  a  small  latticed  window 
about  two  feet  square  near  the  ceiling.  It  was  filthy, 
and  contained  two  small  paillasses  full  of  fleas,  two  hard 
kitchen  chairs,  and  a  small  kitchen  table.  For  safety, 
we  had  all  our  baggage  brought  up.  We  asked  for  a 
light,  and  they  gave  us  a  rushlight,  growling  all  the 
time  because  we  did  not  find  the  light  of  a  dim  oil-lamp 
in  the  passage  enough,  and  bread  sufficient  nourishment ; 
but  we  clamoured  for  supper. 

After  three  hours'  preparation,  during  which  we  were 
inspected  by  the  whole  band  of  ruffians  composing  the 
establishment,  and  after  loud,  bewildering  chatter  about 
what  should  become  of  us  on  the  morrow,  we  were 
asked  with  much  pomp  and  ceremony  into  the  kitchen. 
We  could  not  both  go  at  once,  as  there  was  no  key  to 
our  door,  and  the  baggage  was  unsafe.  Richard  was  not 
away  five  minutes,  but  returned  with  an  exclamation  of 
disgust,  threw  himself  on  the  paillasse,  lit  a  cigar,  and 
opened  a  bottle  of  Santa  Cruz  wine  we  had  brought 
with  us.  I  then  started,  and  found  it  necessary  to  hold 
the  light  close  to  the  ground,  in  order  not  to  put  my 


Uenerfffe  203 

feet  through  the  holes,  or  fall  on  the  uneven  boarding 
of  the  gallery.  In  a  dirty  kitchen,  on  a  dirty  cloth,  was 
a  pink  mess  in  a  saucer,  smoking  hot  (which,  if  analysed, 
would  have  proved  to  be  eggs,  beetroot,  garlic,  and 
rancid  oil),  stale  bread,  dirty  rancid  butter,  looking  like 
melted  tallow-grease  ;  and  what  I  thought  was  a  large 
vinegar-cruet,  but  in  reality  a  bottle  of  wine,  completed 
the  repast.  I  tried  to  eat,  but,  though  starved,  soon 
desisted.  When  I  returned  to  my  room,  Pepa,  the 
dirty  handmaiden — who  was  always  gaping  into  the 
streets  for  excitement  (which  was  not  to  be  found  in 
Laguna),  but  who  proved  more  good-tempered  and 
honest  than  her  mistress — followed  me,  and,  looking 
nervously  around,  put  a  large  key  into  my  hand,  and 
told  me  to  lock  my  door  at  night.  I  did  not  need  a 
second  hint,  but  also  piled  up  the  baggage  and  kitchen 
chairs  and  table  against  what  looked  to  me  like  a 
second  suspicious  door,  opening  out  on  leads  and  locked 
outside.  I  then  got  out  our  arms — two  revolvers  and 
three  bowie-knives — loaded  the  former,  and  put  one 
of  each  close  to  our  hands  ready.  Sleep  was  out  of 
the  question  for  me  on  account  of  the  fleas,  which  were 
legion  ;  but  I  experienced  nothing  of  a  more  alarming 
nature. 

We  were  up  betimes,  and  clamouring  to  get  on  to 
Orotava.  They  naturally  wished  to  keep  us,  and  so 
they  invented  every  excuse.  They  all  spoke  loudly 
and  at  once.  "  The  public  coach  was  engaged  by  a 
private  gentleman  for  several  days ;  there  were  no 
horses  or  mules  to  be  had  for  some  time  "  (they  would 
almost  have  told  us  there  was  no  hotel  at  Orotava,  if 


204      Ube  Romance  of  Isabel  Xaoy  Burton 

they  had  dared) ;  "  the  yellow  fever  raged  everywhere 
except  at  Laguna,  which  was  above  its  range."  "  Well, 
then,"  we  said,  "under  all  these  circumstances  we  would 
walkr  Now  they  never  walk  themselves,  and  a  woman 
doing  such  a  thing  was  incredible.  They  said,  "  He  might 
walk  ;  but  what  about  the  Sefiora  and  the  baggage  ?  " 
Seeing,  finally,  that  we  were  determined,  and  offered 
good  pay,  the  driver  of  the  vehicle  agreed  to  drive  us 
three  miles  farther  on  to  Sausal,  and  to  furnish  us  with 
several  mules  for  our  baggage  ;  but  no  riding  mules, 
never  thinking  that  we  should  accept  such  a  proposition. 
To  their  surprise,  we  closed  with  it  at  once.  They 
tried  a  last  dodge  in  the  shape  of  charging  us  the 
exorbitant  price  of  five  dollars,  or  £i,  for  our  atrocious 
night's  lodging  and  mess  of  eggs,  and  we  gave  it 
cheerfully.  When  we  went  to  pack  up,  we  discovered 
that,  although  we  had  been  there  but  fifteen  hours,  and 
had  never  left  the  room  at  the  same  time  without 
locking  our  door  and  taking  the  key,  they  had  contrived 
to  steal  our  best  bowie-knife,  but  had  touched  nothing 
else.  It  were  better  to  leave  gold  than  a  knife  in 
the  way  of  a  Spaniard.  We  would  not  even  stay  to 
dispute  this. 

We  finally  started  in  the  "coach,"  in  high  glee, 
through  the  melancholy  streets,  up  a  rising  country, 
grand  and  hilly,  and  over  a  good  road.  Richard  said 
that  it  was  a  most  interesting  mountain-pass,  for  reasons 
which  were  rather  au-dessus  de  ma  portee ;  and  as  I 
have  no  doubt  of  it,  I  will  describe  the  trifles. 

The  chief  travellers  on  this  road  were  muleteers, 
picturesque  men  in  blankets  and  sombreros,  sitting 


TTeneritfe  205 

on  comfortable-looking  and  heavily  laden  pack-saddles, 
walking  or  galloping,  and  singing  in  a  peculiar  Moorish 
roulade,  and  smoking  their  little  paper  cigarillos.  The 
only  difference  that  I  could  see  between  them  and  a 
Spanish  gentleman  was,  that  the  latter's  mule  was  better 
bred  and  went  a  faster  pace,  and  he  had,  in  place 
of  the  blanket,  a  black  cloak,  with  perhaps  a  bit  of 
red  sash  or  binding.  Pretty  peasant  women,  with  a 
sturdy  yet  graceful  walk  and  undulating  figures,  went 
by.  They  wore  white  flannel  mantillas,  topped  by  a 
sombrero,  and  carried  enormous  weights  on  their  heads, 
and  sang  and  chattered,  not  at  all  distressed  by  their 
burthens.  We  passed  all  the  scenes  of  historical  in- 
terest in  our  passage  through  the  island.  Our  coach 
arrived  finally  at  Sausal.  Our  aneroid  marked  nine- 
teen hundred  feet  at  the  highest  part  of  our  drive 
through  the  pass.  Here  we  dismounted,  and  the  coach 
waited  for  an  hour  to  see  what  passengers  it  might 
pick  up. 

We  were  in  a  very  peculiar  position,  quite  by  our- 
selves (without  even  a  servant),  at  a  wayside  house  of 
refuge  on  a  mountain-side,  beyond  which  precincts  no 
vehicle  went  at  this  time,  and  where  it  was  impossible 
to  remain,  and  without  knowing  a  soul  in  the  island. 
Luckily  Richard  spoke  the  language  well.  Still,  we 
did  not  exactly  know  where  we  were  going.  We  had 
an  indistinct  wish  to  go  to  Orotava  ;  but  where  it  was, 
or  how  distant  at  that  moment,  we  knew  not  ;  nor  did 
we  know,  when  we  got  there,  if  we  should  find  any 
accommodation,  and  if  not,  how  we  should  be  able  to  get 
back,  or  whether  we  should  have  to  pass  the  night  out 


zo6      zrbe  IRomance  of  Ssabel  Xaog  JSurton 

of  doors.     Yet  it  was  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life. 
I  had  been  through  two  mortally  dull  years  (without 
travel),   in  commonplace,  matter-of-fact  Old  England, 
where  one  cant  get  into  a  difficulty.     Independently 
of  this,  our  baggage — some  twenty-five  packages — was 
scattered  all  over  the  place  on  mule-back,  some  coming 
up   from   Santa   Cruz,    some   from    Laguna,   and  the 
smaller  ones  with   us.     They  would  not  know  what 
had  become  of  us.     And  how  were  we  to  rid  ourselves 
of  those  we  had  with  us  ?     We  saw  several  handsome, 
proud,  lazy-looking  fellows,  in  blankets,  sleeping  about, 
outside  the  cottage,  and  asked  them  if,  for  a  couple  of 
dollars,  they  would  carry  these,  and  walk  with  us  to 
show  us  the  way  ?     Not  a  bit  of  it !     They  did  not 
want  to  earn  two  dollars   (Bs.   4^.)   at  such  a  price ! 
They  have  nothing,  and  want  nothing  but  sleep  and 
independence.     At  last  a  party  of  muleteers  came  by. 
Richard  explained  our  difficulties,  and  one  good-natured 
old  fellow  put  our  small  traps  on  the  top  of  his  pack, 
and  we  left  orders  at  the  house  of  refuge  with  the  girl 
that  any  mules  passing  by  laden  with  an  Englishman's 
luggage  were  to  come  on  to  Orotava,  and  then  com- 
menced our  walk.    And  an  uncommonly  pretty,  pleasant 
walk  it  was.     This  path  was  only  fit  for  mules  ;  and 
the  continuation  of  the  good  road  we  could  not  enter 
upon,  on  account  of  the  people  at  work,  and  incessant 
blasting. 

At  the  end  of  four  hours  a  mere  turn  in  the  road 
showed  us  the  tropical  valley  in  all  its  beauty,  and  the 
effect  was  magical  :  the  wealth  of  verdure  and  foliage, 
wild  flowers,  and  carolling  birds  of  pretty  plumage. 


tteneriffe  207 

A  horseshoe-shaped  range  of  mountains  shuts  out  the 
Vale  of  Orotava  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  enclosing 
it  entirely,  except  where  open  to  the  sea  and  its  cool 
breezes  ;  and  we  gradually  wound  down  under  its 
eastern  range,  sloping  to  the  beach. 

A  boy  guide  met  us,  and  led  us  through  many  a 
winding,  paved  street  of  Orotava,  till  the  trickling  of 
the  mountain  stream  reached  our  ears  ;  and  then,  follow- 
ing its  course,  he  brought  us  to  the  door  of  our  fonda 
gobea,  or  inn,  which,  from  its  outward  appearance, 
charmed  me  inexpressibly.  It  is  an  ancient  relic  of 
Spanish-Moorish  grandeur — the  palace  of  a  defunct 
Marchesa — a  large  building,  of  white  stone,  whitewashed 
over,  built  in  a  square,  the  interior  forming  the  patio, 
or  courtyard.  Verandahed  balconies  run  all  around  it 
inside,  in  tiers  of  dark  carved  wood,  and  outside 
windows,  or  wooden  doors,  empanelled,  and  with  old 
coats  of  arms  above  them.  These  open  on  to  balconies 
of  the  same.  There  is  a  flat  roof,  with  garden  or 
terrace  at  the  top.  The  inside  balconies  form  the 
passage.  All  the  rooms  open  into  the  side  next  the 
house  ;  the  other  looks  into  the  court.  We  were  very 
weary  and  dusty  as  we  entered  the  patio.  The  amo, 
or  master,  made  his  appearance,  and,  much  to  our 
chagrin,  conducted  us  to  a  room  very  much  like  the 
one  we  left  at  Laguna.  I  will  not  say  that  our  spirits 
fell,  for  we  looked  at  each  other  and  burst  out  laughing; 
it  was  evident  that  the  Canaries  contained  no  better 
accommodation  ;  but  people  who  go  in  for  travelling 
laugh  at  the  discomforts  that  make  others  miserable  ; 
so,  with  a  glance  at  an  upper  skylight,  a  foot  square, 


zos      zibe  IRoinance  of  Isabel  Zaog  JSurton 

we  agreed  that  it  would  be  a  capital  place  for  work, 
in  the  way  of  reading,  writing,  and  study. 

While  Richard  was  settling  something,  and  drink- 
ing a  cup  of  coffee,  I  asked  the  amo  to  let  me  inspect 
the  house,  and  see  if  I  could  not  find  better  accom- 
modation ;  but  he  assured  me  that  every  nook  and 
cranny  was  occupied.  I  explored  an  open  belvedere 
at  the  top  of  the  house,  a  garret  half  occupied  by  a 
photographer  in  the  daytime,  and  the  courtyard,  and 
was  going  back  in  despair,  when  I  came  upon  a  long, 
lofty,  dusty,  deserted-looking  loft,  with  thirty-two  hard, 
straight-backed  kitchen  chairs  in  it  I  counted  them 
from  curiosity. 

"  What,"  I  asked,  "  is  this  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  he  replied,  "  we  call  this  the  sata,  but  no  one 
ever  comes  into  it  ;  so  we  use  it  as  a  lumber-room, 
and  the  workwomen  sit  here." 

"  Will  you  give  me  this  ?  "  I  asked  again. 

"Willingly,"  he  replied,  looking  nevertheless  as 
surprised  as  if  I  had  asked  to  sleep  in  the  courtyard  ; 
"  and,  moreover,  you  can  run  over  the  house,  and  ask 
Bernardo  [a  peasant  servant]  to  give  you  whatever 
furniture  you » may  choose." 

I  was  not  long  in  thanking  him  and  carrying 
his  offer  into  execution.  Bernardo  and  I  speedily 
fraternized,  and  we  soon  had  the  place  broomed  and 
aired.  It  had  evidently  been  the  ballroom  or 
reception-room  of  the  defunct  Marchesa  in  palmy  days. 
Stone  walls  painted  white,  a  wood  floor  with  chinks  in 
it,  through  which  you  could  see  the  patio  below,  and 
through  which  "  brave  rats  and  mice  "  fearlessly  came 


tTenerfffe  209 

to  play  ;  a  raftered  wood  ceiling  with  a  deep  carved 
cornice  (through  the  holes  above  the  children  over- 
head subsequently  pelted  us  with  nuts  and  cheese)  ; 
three  chains,  with  faded  blue  ribbons,  suspended  from 
the  lofty  ceiling,  whereon  chandeliers  had  evidently 
hung.  Three  carved-wood  doors  (rusty  on  their 
hinges)  opened  on  to  a  verandah  balcony,  from  which 
we  had  a  splendid  view.  The  hotel  opened  sideways, 
on  the  hillside,  on  to  a  perpendicular  street,  with  a 
mountain  torrent  dashing  down  it  beneath  the  windows. 
To  the  left,"  above,  was  the  mountain  range  of  Tigayga  ; 
to  the  right  was  the  town,  or  villa  ;  and  below,  and 
sideways  to  the  right,  was  the  cultivated .  valley,  and 
the  sea  stretching  broadly  away,  and,  when  clear,  we 
could  see  the  white  cone — the  immortal  Peak.  One 
double  door,  of  cedar  wood,  opened  on  to  the  balcony 
overhanging  the  patio ;  and  one  more  into  another 
room,  which  I  had  subsequently  to  barricade  against 
an  inquisitive  old  lady,  who  wanted  to  see  if  English 
people  bathed  and  ate  like  Teneriffians. 

Such  was  the  aspect  of  the  loft  after  a  brooming.  I 
then  routed  out  an  old  screen,  and  ran  it  across  the  room, 
dividing  it  into  two,  thereby  enabling  the  amo  to  charge 
me  for  bedroom  and  sitting-room.  In  the  bedroom 
half  I  ran  two  straw  paillasses  together  for  a  bed  ;  two 
little  primitive  washstands,  capable  of  containing  a  pint 
of  water ;  and  two  tiny  tables  of  like  dimensions  "for 
our  toilet.  My  next  difficulty  was  to  rig  up  a  bath  and 
a  stove.  Hunting  about,  I  found  a  large  wine-wash,  as 
tall  as  myself.  I  rolled  it  in,  and  ordered  it  to  be  filled 
every  day  with  sea  water.  The  drawing-room  contained 

VOL.  i.  14 


zio      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

two  large  kitchen  tables  (one  for  Richard's  writing, 
one  to  dine  on),  and  a  smaller  one  for  my  occupations, 
a  horsehair  sofa,  a  pan  of  charcoal,  kettles,  and  pots 
for  hot  water,  tea,  eggs,  and  minor  cooking. 

Presently  mule  after  mule  began  to  arrive  with 
the  baggage  ;  not  a  thing  was  missing.  I  divided  the 
thirty-two  hard-backed  kitchen  chairs  between  the  two 
apartments.  For  want  of  drawers  or  wardrobe  we 
kept  most  things  in  our  trunks,  hanging  dresses,  coats, 
and  dressing-gown  over  the  screen  and  chairs  in  lieu 
of  wardrobe.  Books,  writing,  and  instruments  strewed 
the  whole  place.  I  was  delighted  with  my  handiwork. 
We  had  arrived  at  seven,  and  at  nine  I  went  to  fetch 
my  philosophic  husband,  who  had  meanwhile  got  a 
book,  and  had  quietly  sat  down,  making  up  his  mind 
for  the  worst.  He  was  perfectly  delighted  with  the  fine 
old  den,  for  we  had  good  air,  light,  a  splendid  view, 
lots  of  room,  and  good  water,  both  fresh  and  salt ;  and 
here  we  intended  to  pass  a  happy  month — to  read, 
write,  study,  chat,  walk,  make  excursions,  and  enjoy 
ourselves. 

Saturday,  March  21,  1863. — Of  course  we  could 
not  rest  until  we  had  "  done  "  the  Peak.  We  were  in 
our  saddles  at  nine.  Our  little  caravan  consisted  of 
six  persons  and  four  animals — Richard  and  myself 
mounted  on  good  horses,  two  mules  laden  with  baggage, 
ona  guide,  and  three  arrteros,  or  muleteers.  Our 
distance  varied  (by  different  reports)  between  eighteen 
and  thirty-two  miles,  from  the  Villa  d'Orotava  to  the 
top  of  the  great  Peak  and  back  ;  and  by  the  route 
we  returned  from  choice — a  longer,  varied,  and  more 


Ueneriffe  an 

difficult  one — I  dare  say  it  was  nearer  the  latter  mark, 
and  our  time  was  thirty-five  hours. 

We  clattered  up  the  streets,  and  went  out  by  a  pretty 
road,  studded  with  villages,  gardens,  cottages,  barrancos, 
and  geraniums  falling  in  rich  profusion  over  the  walls  into 
the  main  road.  We  turned  abruptly  from  this  road  up 
the  stony  side  of  the  Barranco  de  San  Antonio,  and 
proceeded  through  cultivated  fields,  but  ever  winding  by 
the  barranco,  which  becomes  deeper  and  deeper.  Here 
rushes  a  fierce  mountain  torrent.  The  stone  at  the 
sides  is  scooped  as  smoothly  by  its  impetuous  rush  as 
a  knife  would  carve  a  cake  of  soap,  and  you  hear 
the  rebounding  in  the  gigantic  caverns,  which  present 
all  the  appearance  of  being  excavated  by  an  immense 
body  of  water.  On  the  borders  of  this  mass  of  stone 
and  of  rushing  waters,  startling  caverns,  and  mysterious 
rumblings,  the  edges  were  bound  with  rich  belts  of 
chestnut  trees,  wild  flowers  of  every  sort,  myrtle  and 
rosemary,  looking  as  placid  as  in  a  garden  ;  and  you 
do  not  expect  to  be  awestruck — as  you  are — when 
you  look  into  the  depth  of  the  ravine,  into  which 
you  might  have  taken  a  step  too  far,  deceived  by  the 
treacherous  borders,  if  the  strange  sounds  below  had 
not  induced  you  to  look  down.  We  were  now  about 
two  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  sea. 

We  ascended  a  very  jagged  and  rough  mountain, 
like  a  barranca,  ever  ascending,  and  came  upon  a 
beautiful  slope  of  forest  of  mixed  bay  and  broom. 
The  soil,  however,  is  a  mass  of  loose  stones  as  we  wind 
through  the  forest,  and  again  emerge  on  another  barren, 
jagged,  and  stony  mountain,  like  the  one  before  the 


212      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

forest.  It  is  now  eleven  o'clock,  and  we  are  four 
thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  and  the  men 
ask  for  a  halt.  The  valley  rises  like  a  hanging  garden 
all  the  way  till  you  come  to  the  first  cloud  and  mist, 
after  which  are  no  more  houses ;  the  mist  rests  upon  the 
woods,  and  ascends  and  descends  for  about  the  space  of 
a  league.  We  had  now  just  got  to  the  clouds.  They 
usually  descend  to  this  distance,  and,  •  except  on  very 
clear  days,  hang  there  for  several  hours  in  the  day — if 
not  all  day — shutting  out  the  upper  world  of  mountains 
like  a  curtain,  though  above  and  below  it  all  may  be 
clear.  We  dismounted  in  a  thick,  misty  cloud,  and 
looked  about  us,  leaving  the  men  to  eat,  drink,  and 
breathe  the  animals. 

The  whole  of  our  ascent  appeared  to  me  to  be  like 
ascending  different  mountains,  one  range  higher  than 
another,  so  that  when  you  reached  the  top  of  one  you 
found  yourself  unexpectedly  at  the  foot  of  another ; 
only  each  varies  as  to  soil  :  stones,  vegetation  ;  stones, 
cinders,  stones. 

At  one  o'clock  we  passed  the  last  vegetation,  six 
thousand  five  hundred  feet,  with  a  shady  clearing  under 
the  retornas^  which  our  men  told  us  was  the  Estancia 
della  Cierra — the  first  station.  The  thermometer  in 
shade  was  at  60°.  Here  we  unloaded  the  mules,  and 
tied  them  to  the  bushes,  upon  which  they  fed.  We 
ate,  drank,  the  men  smoked,  and  then  we  reloaded  and 
remounted,  and  soon  emerged  from  the  last  vegetation, 
and  entered  upon  Los  Cafiadas,  through  a  gap,  by  the 
gate  of  Teora — a  natural  portico  of  lava.  Here  we 
ceased  ascending  for  some  time,  the  Canadas  being  a 


Uenertffe  213 

sandy  plain,  extending  fifteen  miles  in  circumference 
round  the  base  of  the  Peak.  Richard  wished  to  build 
him  a  house  in  this  his  peculiar  element,  wanted  a  good 
gallop,  and  all  sorts  of  things.  The  hot  sun  literally 
rained  fire,  pouring  down  upon  our  heads  and  scorch- 
ing the  earth,  and  blistering  our  faces,  hands,  and  lips, 
as  if  it  spitefully  begrudged  us  our  pleasant  excursion 
and  boisterous  spirits.  There  was  water  nowhere. 

We  rode  along  the  plain  laughing  and  chattering, 
and  presently  began  to  ascend  again  the  same  soil  as  on 
the  plain,  but  steepening  and  more  bleak  and  barren, 
with  not  a  sign  of  life  or  vegetation.  We  came  to  the 
mountain,  and  put  our  poor  beasts  to  the  steep  ascent, 
breasting  the  red  pumice  bed  and  thick  bands  of 
detached  black  blocks  of  lava.  The  soil,  in  fact, 
consists  of  loose  pumice  stones  sprinkled  with  lava  and 
broken  bits  of  obsidian.  Our  animals  sank  knee-deep, 
and  slid  back  several  yards  ;  and  we  struggled  upwards 
after  this  fashion  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  when 
we  came  to  a  little  flat  space  on  the  right,  with  blocks 
of  stone  partially  enclosing  it,  but  open  overhead  and 
to  one  side. 

This  was  the  second  station,  called  the  Estancia  de 
los  Ingleses,  nine  thousand  six  hundred  feet  above  the 
sea ;  temperature  1 6°,  only  accessible  on  the  south- 
eastern side.  Here  we  gladly  dismounted,  after  eight 
hours'  ride. 

The  arrieros  unpacked  and  dismantled  their  beasts, 
let  the  mules  roll,  and  put  all  four  in  shelter  with  their 
nosebags,  and  then  went  in  search  of  fuel.  Richard 
went  off  to  take  observations  ;  and  I  saw  him  with 


2i4      Ttbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaog  JBurton 

pleasure  enjoying  the  indescribable  atmospheric  charm 
under  the  rose-pink  blush  of  the  upper  sky.  I  knew 
mine  was  Martha's  share  of  the  business,  and  that 
I  had  better  look  sharp  ;  so  I  unpacked  our  panniers, 
and  made  the  estancia  ready  for  the  night.  In  less 
than  an  hour  our  beds  were  made  comfortable,  and 
composed  of  railway-rugs,  coats,  and  cloaks.  There 
were  two  roaring  fires,  and  tea  and  coffee  ;  and  spread 
about  were  spirits,  wine,  fowls,  bread,  butter,  hard  eggs, 
and  sausages.  We  could  have  spent  a  week  there  very 
comfortably ;  and  we  sat  round  our  camp-fire  warming 
ourselves,  eating,  and  talking  over  the  day.  The  men 
brought  out  hard  eggs,  salt  fish,  and  prepared  gqfia — the 
original  Guanche  food — which  is  corn  roasted  brown, 
then  pounded  fine,  and  put  into  a  kid-skin  bag  with 
water  and  kneaded  about  in  the  hand  into  a  sort  of 
cake.  They  were  immensely  surprised  at  a  sharp 
repeater  which  I  had  in  my  belt,  and  with  which  we 
tried  to  shoot  a  raven;  but  he  would  not  come  within 
shot,  though  we  tried  hard  to  tempt  him  with  a 
chicken's  leg  stuck  upon  a  stick  at  a  distance. 

We  read  and  wrote  till  seven  o'clock,  and  then  it 
grew  darker  and  colder,  and  I  turned  in,  i.e.  rolled 
myself  round  in  the  rugs  with  my  feet  to  the  camp- 
fire,  and  did  not  sleep,  but  watched.  The  estancia,  or 
station,  was  a  pile  of  wild  rocks  about  twenty  feet  high, 
open  overhead  to  one  side,  with  a  space  in  the  middle 
big  enough  to  camp  in.  At  the  head  and  down  one 
side  of  our  bed  was  a  bank  of  snow  ;  two  mules  were 
tethered  near  our  heads,  but  not  near  enough  to  kick 
and  bite.  The  horses  were  a  little  farther  off".  There 


Ueneriffe  215 

were  two  capital  fires  of  retorna  wood  ;  and  strewed 
all  around  were  rugs,  blankets,  and  wraps  of  all  sorts, 
kettles,  canteens,  bottles,  books,  instruments,  eatables, 
and  kegs.  It  was  dark  at  seven  o'clock.  The  stars 
shone  brilliantly,  but  it  was  only  the  third  night  of  the 
moon,  so  we  were  badly  ofF  for  that.  But  the  day 
had  been  brilliant,  and  our  only  drawback  had  been 
that  the  curtain  of  clouds  had  shut  out  the  under-world 
from  us  about  one  o'clock  for  good  and  all.  Our  men 
consisted  of  one  guide,  Manuel,  and  three  arrieros. 
They  lay  round  the  fire  in  their  blankets  and  black 
velvet  sombreros  in  careless  attitudes.  (I  did  not 
know  a  blanket  could  look  so  picturesque.)  Their 
dark  hair  and  skins,  white  teeth,  flashing  eyes,  and 
handsome  features,  lit  up  by  the  lurid  glare  of  the  fire, 
and  animated  by  the  conversation  of  Richard,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  spirits  and  tobacco  with  which  he  made 
their  hearts  glad,  made  a  first-rate  bivouac  scene,  a 
brigand-like  group,  for  they  are  a  fine  and  hardy  race. 
They  held  loud  and  long  theological  discussions,  good- 
humouredly  anathematizing  Richard  as  an  infidel,  and 
showed  their  medals  and  crosses.  He  harangued  them, 
and  completely  baffled  them  with  his  Mohammedan 
logic  ;  and  ended  by  opening  his  shirt,  and  showing 
them  a  medal  and  cross  like  their  own — the  one  I  had 
given  him  long  ago.  They  looked  at  each  other,  shook 
their  fists,  laughed,  and  were  beside  themselves  with 
excitement.  I  laughed  and  listened  until  the  Great 
Bear  went  down  behind  the  mountain-side,  and  then 
fell  fast  asleep.  The  men  took  it  in  turns  to  keep  up 
the  fire,  while  they  slept  around  it.  The  only  sound 


216      Ube  IRomance  of  30abel  Zafcg  ISurton 

heard  was  once  or  twice  the  spiteful  scream  of  a  mule 
trying  to  bite  its  neighbour,  or  a  log  of  wood  being 
thrown  on  the  fire ;  and  outside  the  estancia  the  silence 
was  so  profound  as  to  fully  realize  "  the  last  man." 
The  pleasant  reminiscences  of  that  night  will  live  in 
my  memory  when  most  other  things  are  forgotten,  or 
trials  and  sorrows  make  me  temporarily  forget  to  be 
grateful  for  past  happiness.  It  was  perfect  repose  and 
full  contentment.  The  tangled  world  below  was  for- 
gotten, and  the  hand  of  him  whom  I  cannot  dispense 
with  through  life  was  near  to  clasp  mine. 

At  half-past  three  o'clock  Manuel  awoke  us.  It 
was  a  pitch-dark  night  save  the  fires.  The  ther- 
mometer at  14°.  We  got  up  and  crowded  on  every 
warm  thing  possible,  made  some  coffee,  using  brandy 
for  milk.  Now  one  of  the  arrieros  was  to  remain 
behind  to  look  after  the  fires,  beasts,  and  estancia 
generally.  I  mounted  my  horse,  and  Richard  one  of 
the  mules.  Our  guide  went  first.  One  arriero  with  a 
pitch-pine  torch,  and  one  arriero  to  return  with  the 
animals,  made  our  party  to  start.  At  half-past  four 
o'clock  we  commenced  upon  what  seemed  the  same 
kind  of  thing  as  the  last  part  of  yesterday's  ride — 
steep,  broken  pumice,  obsidian,  and  lava — only  twenty 
times  more  difficult  and  steep,  with  an  occasional  rock- 
work  or  snowdrift.  We  were  the  first  people  who 
had  ascended  in  winter  since  1797  ;  and  even  the 
guide  did  not  exactly  know  what  might  happen  for  the 
snow.  Manuel  went  therefore  first  with  a  torch  ;  then 
Richard  ;  then  the  second  torch  ;  then  myself  on  my 
poor  Negro  ;  and,  lastly,  a  third  torch.  Our  poor 


Ueneriffe  217 

beasts  sank  knee-deep,  and  slid  tremendously.  Once 
or  twice  my  steed  refused,  and  appeared  to  prefer 
descent  to  ascent,  but  fortunately  changed  his  mind, 
or  an  inevitable  roll  to  the  bottom  and  broken  bones 
would  have  been  the  result.  Richard's  mule  went  into 
a  snowdrift,  but  emerged,  with  much  pluck,  without 
unseating  him.  I  got  a  little  frightened  when  it  got 
to  the  steepest  part,  and  found  myself  obliged  to  cling 
to  the  mane,  for  it  was  too  dark,  even  with  torches,  to 
see  much.  In  three-quarters  of  an  hour  we  came  to  the 
highest  and  third  estancia,  ten  thousand  five  hundred 
feet  above  sea-level,  called  Estancia  de  los  Allemanes. 

Here  we  dismounted,  and  our  third  arriero  went 
down  with  the  animals,  while  we,  pike  in  hand,  began 
the  ascent  of  the  Mai  Pais,  which  is  composed  of 
what  yesterday  I  had  imagined  to  be  walls  of  black 
stone,  radiating  from  the  ridge  below  the  cone  to  the 
yellow  mountain,  but  which  are  really  very  severe  lava 
beds,  about  thirteen  hundred  feet  high,  consisting  of 
immense  blocks  of  lava ;  some  as  big  as  a  cottage, 
and  some  as  small  as  a  football ;  some  loose  and 
rolling,  others  firm,  with  drifts  of  snow  between,  and 
piled  up  almost  perpendicularly  above  you  ;  and  when 
you  have  surmounted  one  ridge,  and  fancy  yourself 
at  the  top,  you  find  there  is  another  still  more  difficult, 
until  you  have  had  so  many  disappointments  that 
you  cease  to  ask.  It  took  me  two  hours,  climbing 
on  my  hands  and  knees,  with  many  rests.  First  I 
threw  away  my  pike,  then  my  outer  coat,  and  gradually 
peeled,  like  the  circus  dancers  do,  who  represent  the 
seasons,  army  and  navy,  etc.,  until  I  absolutely  arrived 


2i8      Ube  iRoniance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

at  the  necessary  blouse  and  petticoat.  As  there  were 
no  thieves,  I  dropped  my  things  on  the  way  as  I 
climbed,  and  they  served  as  so  many  landmarks  on 
return.  Every  time  we  stopped  to  breathe  I  was 
obliged  to  fill  my  mouth  with  snow,  and  put  it  on  my 
head  and  forehead — the  sun  had  blistered  me  so,  and 
the  air  was  keen.  At  about  5.30  a.m.  a  truly  soft  light, 
preceding  day,  took  the  place  of  torchlight.  The 
horizon  gradually  became  like  a  rainbow,  with  that 
peculiar  effect  it  always  has  of  being  on  a  level  with 
one,  and  the  world  beneath  curved  like  a  bowl,  which 
is  very  striking  to  a  person  who  is  on  a  great  height 
for  the  first  time.  More  toil,  and  we  pass  the  icedrift 
at  our  right,  and  sight  the  Cone,  which  looks  like 
a  dirty-white  sugar-loaf;  which,  I  was  told,  was  a 
low  comparison  !  Every  ten  minutes  I  was  obliged  to 
rest ;  and  the  guides,  after  each  fe.w  moments'  rest, 
would  urge  me  to  a  toutine — just  a  little  more — to 
which  I  had  manfully  to  make  up  my  mind,  though  I 
felt  very  much  fatigued. 

At  6  a.m.  the  guides  told  us  to  turn  round  :  a 
golden  gleam  was  on  the  sea — the  first  of  the  sun  ;  and 
gradually  its  edge  appeared,  and  it  rose  majestically  in 
pure  golden  glory  ;  and  we  were  hanging  between 
heaven  and  earth — in  solitude  and  silence — and  were 
permitted  to  enjoy  this  beautiful  moment.  It  was 
Sunday  morning,  March  22 — Passion  Sunday.1  Out 

[*  On  reading  through  this  manuscript  with  Mr.  Wilkins,  I  am 
struck  with  the  coincidence  that  it  was  on  Passion  Sunday, 
March  22,  1896  (thirty- three  years  later),  that  my  dear  sister, 
Lady  Burton,  died.— E.  FITZGERALD.] 


Ueneriffe  219 

of  the  six  souls  there,  five  of  us  were  Catholics,  unable 
to  hear  Mass.  We  knelt  down,  and  I  said  aloud  a 
Paternoster,  Ave  Maria,  and  Gloria  Patri,  and  offered 
to  our  Lord  the  hearts  of  all  present  with  genuine 
thanksgiving,  and  with  a  silent  prayer  that  the  one  dear 
to  me,  the  only  unbeliever  of  our  small  party,  might 
one  day  receive  the  gift  of  faith. 

We  arose,  and  continued  our  now  almost  painful 
way,  and  at  6.45  reached  the  base  of  the  dirty-white 
sugar-loaf.  Here  we  breathed  ;  and  what  had  seemed 
to  me  to  be  a  ridge  from  below  was  a  small  plain 
space  round  the  base  of  the  Cone.  The  thermometer 
stood  at  120°  in  the  steam,  but  there  was  no  smell  of 
sulphur  till  we  reached  the  top.  Manuel  and  Richard 
start,  pike  in  hand.  My  muleteer  took  off  his  red 
sash,  tied  it  round  my  waist,  and  took  the  other  end 
over  his  shoulder,  and  with  a  pike  in  my  hand  we  did 
the  last  hard  work;  and  it  was  very  hard  after  the 
Mai  Pais.  The  Cone  is  surrounded,  as  I  have  just 
said,  by  a  little  plain  base  of  pumice,  and  its  own  soil 
is  broken,  fine  pumice — out  of  which,  from  all  parts, 
issue  jets  of  smoke,  which  burn  you  and  your  clothes  : 
I  think  I  counted  thirty-five.  We  had  five  hundred 
and  twelve  feet  more  to  accomplish,  and  we  took  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour.  The  top  consists  of  masses  of  rock, 
great  and  small,  covered  with  bright,  glistening,  yellow 
sulphur,  and  frost ;  and  from  which  issue  powerful 
jets  of  smoke  from  the  volcano  within.  Richard  helped 
me  up  to  stand  on  the  corona,  the  top  stone,  at  7.40 
a.m.  It  is  so  narrow  there  is  only  room  for  one  person 
to  stand  there  at  once.  I  stood  there  a  minute  or  two. 


220       Ube  Ktomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

I  had  reached  the  Peak.     I  was  now,  at  the  outside 
computation,  twelve  thousand  three  hundred  feet  high. 

The  guides  again  suggested  a  Gloria  Patri,  in 
thanksgiving — Richard  a  cigar.  Both  were  accom- 
plished. The  guides  had  been  a  little  anxious  about 
this  first  winter  attempt.  They  now  told  us  it  had 
been  deemed  impossible  in  Orotava  to  accomplish  it  ; 
and  as  for  the  Senora,  they  had  said,  she  could  not 
even  reach  the  second  Estancia  de  los  Ingleses,  and  lo  ! 
there  she  stood  on  the  corona !  From  where  we  stood 
at  this  moment,  it  is  said  that  on  a  clear  day  the  eye 
can  take  in  the  unparalleled  distance  of  eight  hundred 
miles  in  circumference  of  ocean,  grasping  the  whole  of 
TenerifFe  as  from  a  balloon,  and  its  coast,  and  the 
whole  fourteen  Canaries  and  coast  of  Africa.  Un- 
fortunately for  us,  the  banks  of  clouds  below  were 
too  thick  for  us  to  do  more  than  obtain  a  view  of 
the  surrounding  mountain-tops  and  country,  and  see 
the  crater.  The  sea  we  could  only  behold  at  a  great 
distance.  We  spent  forty  minutes  at  the  top,  examin- 
ing the  crater,  and  looking  all  around  us  ;  during  the 
latter  part  of  which  operation,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  I 
fell  fast  asleep  from  sheer  fatigue,  and  was  aroused  by 
Richard  hallooing  to  me  that  my  clothes  were  on  fire, 
which,  alas !  was  too  true.  I  pocketed  specimens  of 
obsidian,  sulphur,  and  pumice.  It  was  piercing  cold, 
with  a  burning  sun  ;  and  we  experienced  a  nasty, 
choking,  sickening  smell  of  sulphur,  which  arose  in 
fetid  puffs  from  the  many-coloured  surface  —  dead 
white,  purple,  dull  red,  green,  and  brilliant  yellow. 
A  sense  of  awe  stole  over  me  as  Richard  almost 


ttenerfffe  221 

poked  his  head  into  the  holes  whence  issued  the  jets 
of  smoke.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  fearful 
catastrophes  that  had  taken  place — how  eruptions, 
perhaps  from  that  very  hole,  had  desolated  Teneriffe — 
how,  perhaps,  it  was  that  which  had  caused  Hanno  to 
say  that  on  the  coast  of  Africa  it  rained  fire  ;  and  yet 
here  we  were  fearlessly  poking  our  heads  inquisitively 
into  it.  What  if  this  should  be  the  instant  of  another 
great  convulsion? 

I  did  not  experience  any  of  the  sensations  described 
by  most  travellers  on  the  Peak,  such  as  sickness,  pains 
in  the  head  or  inside,  or  faintness  and  difficulty  of 
breathing,  though  the  air  was  rare  in  the  extreme, 
and  although  I  am  of  a  highly  sensitive  and  nervous 
temperament,  and  suffer  all  this  when  obliged  to  lead 
a  sedentary  life  and  deprived  of  open  air  and  hard 
exercise.  I  found  my  brain  clear  and  the  air  and 
height  delightfully  exhilarating,  and  could  have 
travelled  so  for  a  month  with  much  pleasure.  The 
only  inconvenience  that  I  did  experience  was  a  sun 
that  appeared  to  concentrate  itself  upon  me  as  a  focus 
(as,  I  suppose,  it  appeared  to  do  the  same  to  each  of  us), 
and  a  piercing  cold  and  severe  wind  besides,  which  com- 
bined to  heat  and  yet  freeze  my  head  and  face,  until 
the  latter  became  like  a  perfect  mask  of  hard,  red  skin, 
likewise  my  lips  and  inside  of  my  mouth.  My  hands, 
feet,  and  knees  also  were  torn  by  the  rocks,  and  I  was 
a  little  bruised  by  sleeping  on  stones ;  but  that  was  all  ; 
and  my  only  difficulty  about  breathing  proceeded  from 
the  labour  of  climbing  on  hands  and  feet,  and  had  no 
connexion  with  the  rarity  of  the  atmosphere  ;  and  as 


Ube  Romance  of  Isabel  Xafcg  JSurton 

we  were,  I  believe,  the  first  winter  travellers  living 
who  had  ascended  at  that  season,  we  had  an  excellent 
opportunity  of  judging.  My  guide  also  told  me  that  I 
was  the  only  sefiora  who  had  performed  some  feat  or 
other  ;  but  I  could  not  exactly  understand  what. 

At  8.30  we  began  the  descent,  planting  our  pikes 
and  our  heels  in  the  soft  stuff,  sliding  down  ten  or 
twelve  yards  at  a  time,  and  arrived  in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  at  the  little  plain  base.  Here  we  breathed 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then  started  again  for  the 
descent  of  that  truly  Mai  Pais.  It  was  even  worse 
to  descend.  I  only  wondered  how  we  got  up  in  the 
dark  without  breaking  our  ankles  or  legs  over  those 
colossal  ruins,  called  the  "  Hobberings,"  of  the  Peak. 
Twice  twisting  my  ankle  in  the  loose  masses,  though 
not  badly,  warned  me  that  it  was  better  to  take 
my  time  than  get  a  bad  hurt  ;  and  the  others  were 
most  considerate  to  me,  both  going  and  coming,  begging 
me  not  to  be  ashamed  to  stop  as  often  and  as  long 
as  I  liked.  We  were  therefore  two  hours  coming 
down,  picking  up  the  discarded  garments  on  the 
way,  and  inclining  a  little  to  the  right,  to  see  the 
ice  cave — Cueva  de  Zelo — which  occupied  twenty 
minutes.  It  is  a  large  cavern  in  the  rock,  hung  with 
huge  icicles,  and  covered  over  with  ice  inside.  We 
now  descended  to  the  place  we  had  mounted  on  horse- 
back in  the  night.  How  the  poor  beast  ever  came 
up  it  is  my  astonishment ;  and  I  am  sure,  if  it  had 
been  daylight,  I  should  have  been  a  great  deal  more 
frightened  than  I  was.  It  was  a  case  of  "  poling  "  down 
on  our  heels  again  ;  and  our  two  guides  hailed  the 


TTenerlffe  223 

two  below  with  a  Guanche  whistle,  which  meant  "  Put 
the  kettle  on." 

We  reached  the  next  stage  at  io.ii.  I  was  now 
rather  "  done  up,"  so  I  drank  a  bowl  of  strong  green 
tea,  and  performed  a  kind  of  toilet,  etc.,  under  the 
lee  of  a  rock,  taking  off  the  remnants  of  my  gloves, 
boots,  and  stockings,  and  replacing  them  with  others, 
which  I  fortunately  had  taken  the  precaution  to  bring  ; 
washed,  brushed,  and  combed  ;  dressed  a  little  more 
tidily  ;  and  glycerined  my  hands,  feet,  and  face.  I  then 
wanted  to  lie  down  and  sleep  ;  but  alas !  there  was  no 
shade  except  in  the  snowdrifts;  so  I  tied  a  wet  towel 
round  my  head,  and  erected  an  umbrella  over  it,  and 
slept  for  half  an  hour,  while  Richard  and  the  men 
breakfasted  and  reloaded.  We  sent  the  animals  down 
the  remainder  of  the  steep  ascent  which  had  taken  up 
our  last  three-quarters  of  an  hour  yesterday — that  is, 
from  the  estancia  where  we  slept  to  the  commencement  of 
the  Canadas — and  we  followed  on  foot,  and  were  down 
in  about  half  an  hour.  This  is  the  bottom  of  the  actual 
mountain  out  of  which  the  Cone  rises.  Once  more 
being  on  almost  level  ground,  we  soon  passed  the  desert, 
fifteen  miles  in  circumference,  surrounding  the  mountain. 
There  were  still  ranges  of  mountains  and  country  to 
descend,  below  it,  to  reach  Orotava.  We  accomplished 
them  all  after  a  hot  but  pleasant  ride,  broken  by  rests, 
and  arrived  safe  home  at  Orotava  at  7  p.m. 

We  spent  a  thoroughly  happy  month  at  Orotava, 
in  the  wilds,  amongst  the  peasantry.  No  trammels  of 
society,  no  world,  no  post,  out  of  civilization,  en  bourgeois, 
and  doing  everything  for  ourselves,  with  the  bare 


224       tTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  JSurton 

necessaries  of  life.  All  our  days  were  much  alike,  except 
excursion  days. 

We  rose  at  seven,  cup  of  tea,  and  toilet.  Then 
came  my  domestic  work  (Richard  had  plunged  into 
literature  at  half-past  seven) :  this  consisted  of  what,  I 
suppose,  Shakspeare  meant  by  "  chronicling  small  beer  " ; 
but  I  had  no  fine  lady's  maid  to  do  it  for  me — she 
would  have  been  sadly  out  of  place — ordering  dinner, 
market,  and  accounts,  needlework,  doing  the  room,  the 
washing,  small  cookery  on  the  pan  of  charcoal,  and 
superintending  the  roughest  of  the  work  as  performed 
by  Bernardo.  Husbands  are  uncomfortable  without 
"  Chronicle,"  though  they  never  see  the  petit  detail  going 
on,  and  like  to  keep  up  the  pleasant  illusion  that  it  is 
done  by  magic.  /  thought  it  very  good  fun,  this  kind 
of  gypsying.  Breakfast  at  ten,  write  till  two  (journals 
and  diaries  kept  up,  etc.),  dinner  at  two  ;  then  walk  or 
ride  or  make  an  excursion  ;  cup  of  tea  on  coming  in, 
literature  till  ten,  with  a  break  of  supper  at  eight,  and  at 
ten  to  bed  :  a  delightfully  healthy  and  wholesome  life, 
both  for  mind  and  body,  but  one  which  I  can't  recom- 
mend to  any  one  who  cannot  rough  it,  or  who  has  no 
serious  occupation,  or  lacks  a  very  agreeable  companion. 

Sometimes,  when  Richard  was  busy  writing,  I  would 
stroll  far  away  into  the  valley  to  enjoy  the  sweet,  balmy 
sea-breeze  and  smell  of  flowers,  and  drink  in  the  soft, 
clear  air,  and  would  get  far  away  from  our  little 
straggling,  up-and-down  town  on  its  perch,  and  cross 
over  barrancas  and  ravines  and  enjoy  myself.  One 
day,  so  occupied,  I  came  upon  a  lovely  quinta  in  a 
garden,  full  of  fruits  and  flowers,  a  perfect  forest  of  tall 


Ueneriffe  225 

rose  trees  and  geranium  bushes,  which  hung  over  the 
garden  hedge  into  the  path.  Two  charming  old  ladies 
caught  me  prigging — Los  Senhoras  T.  They  came 
out  and  asked  me  in,  showed  me  all  over  their  garden, 
gave  me  fruit  and  sweetmeats  and  flowers,  and  kissed 
me.  They  did  not  know  what  five  o'clock  tea  meant, 
but  I  often  wandered  there  about  that  time,  and  found 
a  charming  substitute  in  the  above  articles,  and  I  quite 
struck  up  a  friendship  with  them. 

We  put  off  leaving  our  peaceful  retreat  until  the  last 
possible  day,  when  we  went  down  to  Santa  Cruz. 
When  we  had  been  at  Santa  Cruz  three  or  four  days, 
the  fatal  gun  boomed — the  signal  of  our  separation. 
It  was  midday,  and  there  was  my  detestable  steamer 
at  anchor — the  steamer  by  which  I  was  to  return  to 
England.  I  felt  as  I  did  when  I  was  a  child,  and  the 
cab  stopped  at  the  dentist's  door.  I  may  pass  over  this 
miserable  day  and  our  most  miserable  parting.  Richard 
was  going  again  to  pestilential  Fernando  Po.  I  should 
not  see  him  for  many,  many  weary  months,  and  perhaps 
never  again.  How  gladly  would  I  have  gone  with 
him  ;  even  to  the  eleventh  hour  I  had  hoped  that  he 
would  relent  and  let  me  go.  But  the  climate  was 
death  to  a  white  woman,  and  he  was  inexorable.  He 
would  not  even  let  me  sleep  one  night  at  Fernando  Po. 
So  we  parted,  he  to  his  consulate,  and  I  to  go  back 
home — which  was  no  home  without  him.  I  pass  over 
the  pain  of  that  parting.  With  many  tears  and  a  heavy 
heart  I  embarked  on  my  steamer  for  England. 


VOL.    I. 


CHAPTER  IV 

A   TRIP   TO  PORTUGAL 
(1863—1865) 

Containeth  Time  a  twain  of  days — this  of  blessing,  that  of  bane ; 
And  holdeth  Life  a  twain  of  halves — this  of  pleasure,  that  of  pain. 

ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burton's  "Arabian  Nights"). 

ON  returning  to  England,  a  long  and  dreary  in- 
terval of  fifteen  months  ensued.  Isabel  spent 
it  for  the  most  part  with  her  parents  in  London, 
working  all  the  time  for  her  husband  in  one  way  or 
another.  The  separation  was  broken  this  time  by 
one  or  two  voyages  which  she  made  from  England 
to  Teneriffe,  where  she  and  her  husband  met  for 
a  space  when  he  could  snatch  a  week  or  two  from 
Fernando  Po.  She  had  one  very  anxious  time;  it 
was  when  Burton  was  sent  on  a  special  mission  to 
the  King  of  Dahome,  to  impress  upon  that  potentate 
the  importance  the  British  Government  attached  to  the 
cessation  of  the  slave-trade,  and  to  endeavour  by  every 
possible  means  to  induce  him  to  discontinue  the  Daho- 
man  customs,  which  were  abominable  cruelties.  Burton 
succeeded  in  some  things,  and  his  dusky  majesty  took 

a  great  fancy  to  him,  and  he  made  him  a  brigadier- 

226 


H  Urip  to  {Portugal  227 

general  of  his  Amazons.  When  the  news  of  this  un- 
looked-for honour  reached  Isabel,  she  became  "  madly 
jealous  from  afar,"  for  she  pictured  to  herself  her 
husband  surrounded  by  lovely  houris  in  flowing  robes 
mounted  on  matchless  Arab  steeds.  Burton,  however, 
allayed  her  pangs  by  sending  her  a  little  sketch  of  the 
chief  officer  of  his  brigade,  as  a  type  of  the  rest.  Even 
Isabel,  who  owns  that  she  was  influenced  occasionally 
by  the  green-eyed  monster,  could  not  be  jealous  of  this 
enchantress. 

The  mission  to  the  King  of  Dahome  was  a  difficult 
and  dangerous  one ;  but  Burton  acquitted  himself  well. 
Isabel  at  home  lost  no  time  in  bringing  her  husband's 
services  before  Lord  Russell,  the  Foreign  Secretary,  and 
she  seized  this  opportunity  to  ask  for  his  promotion 
to  a  less  deadly  climate,  where  she  might  join  him. 
In  reply  she  received  the  following  letter  : 

"  MINTO,  October  6,  1863. 

"DEAR  MRS.  BURTON, 

"  I  know  the  climate  in  which  your  husband 
is  working  so  zealously  and  so  well  is  an  unhealthy 
one,  but  it  is  not  true  to  say  that  he  is  the  smallest  of 
consuls  in  the  worst  part  of  the  world.  Many  have 
inferior  salaries,  and  some  are  in  more  unhealthy  places. 
(<  However,  if  I  find  a  vacancy  of  a  post  with  an  equal 
salary  and  a  better  position,  I  will  not  forget  his  services. 
I  do  not  imagine  he  would  wish  for  a  less  active  post. 

"  He  has  performed  his  mission  to  Dahome  very 
creditably,  to  my  entire  satisfaction. 

"  I  remain,  yours  truly, 

<f  RUSSELL." 


228      ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xa&s  JSurton 

With  this  answer  she  was  fain  to  be  content  for  a  space. 

In  August,  1864,  the  time  came  round  again  for 
Burton's  second  leave  home.  His  wife,  rejoicing, 
travelled  down  to  meet  him  at  Liverpool,  this  time 
to  part  no  more,  as  previously.  A  few  weeks  after  his 
return  they  went  to  Mortlake  Cemetery  and  chose  the 
place  for  their  grave,  the  very  spot  where  the  stone  tent 
now  is,  beneath  which  they  both  are  sleeping.  Very 
quickly  after  that  came  the  British  Association  meeting 
at  Bath  and  the  tragic  incident  of  Speke's  death. 1 

1  "  Laurence  Oliphant  conveyed  to  Richard  that  Speke  had  said 
that  '  if  Burton  appeared  on  the  platform  at  Bath '  (which  was,  as 
it  were,  Speke's  native  town)  'he  would  kick  him.'  I  remember 
Richard's  answer — '  Well,  that  settles  it !  By  God  !  he  shall  Kick. 
me '  ;  and  so  to  Bath  we  went.  There  was  to  be  no  speaking  on 
Africa  the  first  day,  but  the  next  day  was  fixed  for  the  '  great 
discussion  between  Burton  and  Speke.'  The  first  day  we  went 
on  the  platform  close  to  Speke.  He  looked  at  Richard  and  at 
me,  and  we  at  him.  I  shall  never  forget  his  face.  It  was  full  of 
sorrow,  of  yearning  and  perplexity.  Then  he  seemed  to  turn  to 
stone.  After  a  while  he  began  to  fidget  a  great  deal,  and  exclaimed 
half  aloud,  '  Oh,  I  cannot  stand  this  any  longer  ! '  He  got  up  to  go 
out  The  man  nearest  him  said,  '  Shall  you  want  your  chair  again, 
sir  ?  May  I  have  it  ?  Shall  you  come  back  ? '  and  he  answered, 
'  I  hope  not,'  and  left  the  hall.  The  next  day  a  large  crowd  was 
assembled  for  this  famous  discussion.  All  the  distinguished  people 
were  with  the  Council ;  Richard  alone  was  excluded,  and  stood  on 
the  platform — we  two  alone,  he  with  his  notes  in  his  hand.  There 
was  a  delay  of  about  twenty-five  minutes,  and  then  the  Council  and 
speakers  filed  in  and  announced  the  terrible  accident  out  shooting 
that  had  befallen  poor  Speke  shortly  after  his  leaving  the  hall  the 
day  before.  Richard  sank  into  a  chair,  and  I  saw  by  the  workings 
of  his  face  the  terrible  emotion  he  was  controlling  and  the  shock 
he  had  received.  When  called  upon  to  speak,  in  a  voice  that 
trembled,  he  spoke  of  other  things  and  as  briefly  as  he  could. 
When  we  got  home  he  wept  long  and  bitterly,  and  I  was  for  many 
a  day  trying  to  comfort  him  "  (Life  of  Sir  Richard  Burton,  by 
Isabel  his  wife,  vol.  i.,  p.  389). 


H  ZTrip  to  Portugal  229 

Apart  from  the  sad  circumstance  of  Speke's  death, 
which  cast  a  shadow  over  their  joy,  the  Burtons  passed 
a  very  pleasant  winter.  They  stayed  at  several 
country  houses,  as  was  their  wont,  and  found  many 
hospitable  friends  glad  to  receive  them,  and  met  many 
interesting  people,  notably  Professor  Jowett.  Early  in 
1864  they  went  on  a  two  months'  driving  tour  in 
Ireland,  which  they  explored  by  degrees  from  end  to 
end  after  their  own  fashion  in  an  Irish  car.  They 
paid  many  visits  en  route  ;  and  it  may  be  mentioned  in 
passing  that  Isabel  always  used  to  see  the  little  horse 
which  took  them  over  Ireland  had  his  midday  feed, 
washed  down  by  a  pint  of  whisky  and  water.  She  always 
declared  that  this  was  what  kept  him  so  frisky  and 
fresh  !  This  Irish  tour  also  brings  out  the  restless, 
roving  spirit  of  both  Burton  and  his  wife.  Even  when 
on  leave  at  home,  and  in  the  midst  of  civilization,  they 
could  never  remain  any  length  of  time  in  one  place, 
but  preferred  to  be  on  the  move  and  rough  it  in  their 
own  fashion.  At  Dublin  they  met  with  an  unusual 
amount  of  hospitality ;  and  while  they  were  staying  in 
that  city  Isabel  met  Lentaigne,  the  great  convict  phil- 
anthropist. He  had  such  a  passion  for  taking  convicts 
in  and  trying  to  reform  them  that  Lord  Carlisle  once 
said  to  him,  "  Why,  Lentaigne,  you  will  wake  up  some 
morning  and  find  you  are  the  only  spoon  in  the  house." 
He  took  Isabel  to  see  all  the  prisons  and  reformatories 
in  Dublin,  and  endeavoured  to  arouse  in  her  something 
of  his  enthusiasm  for  their  inhabitants.  Knowing  that 
she  would  soon  be  bound  for  foreign  parts,  he  implored 
her  to  take  one  with  her,  a  convict  woman  of  about 


Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  Kurton 

thirty-four,  who  was  just  being  discharged  after  fifteen 
years  in  prison.  u  Why,  Mr.  Lentaigne,  what  did  she 
do  ?  "  asked  Isabel.  "  Poor  girl  !  "  he  answered — "  the 
sweetest  creature  ! — she  murdered  her  baby  when  she 
was  sixteen."  "  Well,"  answered  Isabel,  "  I  would  do 
anything  to  oblige  you  ;  but  if  I  took  her,  I  dare  say  I 
should  often  be  left  alone  with  her,  and  at  thirty-four 
she  might  like  larger  game." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  the  Burtons  again  re- 
presented to  Lord  Russell  how  miserable  their  lives 
were,  in  consequence  of  being  continually  separated  by 
the  deadly  climate  of  Fernando  Po.  Isabel's  repeated 
petitions  so  moved  the  Foreign  Secretary  that  he  trans- 
ferred Burton  to  the  Consulate  of  Santos  in  the  Brazils. 
It  was  not  much  of  a  post,  it  is  true,  and  with  a 
treacherous  climate  ;  but  still  his  wife  could  accompany 
him  there,  and  they  hailed  the  change  with  gratitude. 
Before  their  departure  a  complimentary  dinner  was 
given  by  the  Anthropological  Society  to  Burton,  with 
Lord  Stanley  (afterwards  Lord  Derby)  in  the  chair. 
Lord  Stanley  made  a  very  complimentary  speech  about 
the  guest  of  the  evening,  and  the  President  of  the 
Society  proposed  Mrs.  Burton's  health,  and  spoke  of  the 
"  respect  and  admiration  "  with  which  they  all  regarded 
her.  The  dinner  was  a  capital  send-off,  and  the 
Burtons  may  be  said  to  have  entered  upon  the  second 
stage  of  their  married  life  with  the  omens  set  fair. 

Husband  and  wife  arranged  that  they  should  go 
out  to  Portugal  together  for  a  little  tour ;  that  he 
should  go  on  from  there  to  Brazil ;  and  she  should 
return  to  London  to  wind  up  affairs,  and  as  soon  as 


H  TTrip  to  Portugal  231 

that  was  done  join  him  at  Rio.  In  accordance  with 
this  programme  they  embarked  at  Southampton  for 
Lisbon  on  May  10,  1865.  The  passage  out  was 
uneventful.  Isabel  in  her  journal  thus  describes  their 
experiences  on  arriving  at  Lisbon  : 

"  As  soon  as  our  vessel  dropped  her  anchor  a  crowd 
of  boats  came  alongside,  and  there  ensued  a  wonderful 
scene.  In  their  anxiety  to  secure  employment  the 
porters  almost  dragged  the  passengers  in  half,  and  tore 
the  baggage  from  each  other  as  dogs  fight  for  a  bone, 
screaming  themselves  hoarse  the  while,  and  scarcely 
intelligible  from  excitement.  The  noise  was  so  great 
we  could  not  hear  ourselves  speak,  and  our  great  diffi- 
culty was  to  prevent  any  one  of  them  from  fingering 
our  baggage.  We  made  up  our  minds  to  wait  till  the 
great  rush  was  over.  We  sent  some  baggage  on  with 
the  steamer,  and  kept  some  to  go  ashore.  I  am  sure 
I  do  not  exaggerate  when  I  say  that,  as  I  sat  and 
watched  one  bag,  I  told  fifteen  men,  one  after  another, 
to  let  it  alone.  We  saw  some  friends  go  off  in  the 
clutches  of  many  fingers,  and  amid  scenes  of  confusion 
and  excitement ;  but  not  caring  to  do  likewise,  we 
chose  a  boat,  and  went  round  to  the  custom-house. 
The  landing  was  most  disagreeable,  and  in  a  bad  gale 
not  to  be  done  at  all — merely  a  few  dirty  steps  on  the 
river- side.  In  wind  and  pelting  rain  we  walked  to 
our  hotel,  followed  closely  at  our  heels  by  men  and 
famished-looking  dogs.  We  proceeded  at  once  to  the 
best-looking  hotel  in  the  place,  the  Braganza,  which 
makes  some  show  from  the  river — a  large,  square,  red 
building,  several  storeys  high,  with  tiers  of  balconies 


232       Ube  IRoinance  of  Jsabel  Xafcg  JSurton 

all  round  the  house.  On  account  of  the  diplomats 
occupying  this  hotel  on  a  special  mission  from  England 
to  give  the  Garter  to  the  King  of  Portugal,  it  was 
still  crowded,  and  we  were  put  up  in  the  garrets  at 
first.  After  two  days  we  were  given  a  very  pleasant 
suite  of  rooms — bedroom,  dining-  and  drawing-room — 
with  wide  windows  overlooking  the  Tagus  and  a  great 
part  of  Lisbon. 

"These  quarters  were,  however,  not  without  draw- 
backs, for  here  occurred  an  incident  which  gave  me  a 
foretaste  of  the  sort  of  thing  I  was  to  expect  in  Brazil. 
Our  bedroom  was  a  large  whitewashed  place  ;  there 
were  three  holes  in  the  wall,  one  at  the  bedside  bristling 
with  horns,  and  these  were  cockroaches  some  three 
inches  long.  The  drawing-room  was  gorgeous  with 
yellow  satin,  and  the  magnificent  yellow  curtains  were 
sprinkled  with  these  crawling  things.  The  consequence 
was  that  I  used  to  stand  on  a  chair  and  scream.  This 
annoyed  Richard  very  much.  *  A  nice  sort  of  traveller 
and  companion  you  are  going  to  make,'  he  said  ;  *  I 
suppose  you  think  you  look  very  pretty  and  interesting 
standing  on  that  chair  and  howling  at  those  innocent 
creatures.'  This  hurt  me  so  much  that,  without 
descending  from  the  chair,  I  stopped  screaming,  and 
made  a  meditation  like  St.  Simon  Stylites  on  his  pillar ; 
and  it  was,  '  That  if  I  was  going  to  live  in  a  country 
always  in  contact  with  these  and  worse  things,  though 
I  had  a  perfect  horror  of  anything  black  and  crawling, 
it  would  never  do  to  go  on  like  that.'  So  I  got  down, 
fetched  a  basin  of  water  and  a  slipper,  and  in  two 
hours,  by  the  watch,  I  had  knocked  ninety-seven  of 


H  Urip  to  {Portugal  233 

them  into  it.  It  cured  me.  From  that  day  I  had  no 
more  fear  of  vermin  and  reptiles,  which  is  just  as  well 
in  a  country  where  nature  is  over-luxuriant.  A  little 
while  after  we  changed  our  rooms  we  were  succeeded 
by  Lord  and  Lady  Lytton,  and,  to  my  infinite  delight, 
I  heard  the  same  screams  coming  from  the  same  room 
a  little  while  after.  '  There  ! '  I  said  in  triumph,  '  you 
see  I  am  not  the  only  woman  who  does  not  like 
cockroaches.' ' 

The  Burtons  tarried  two  months  in  Portugal,  and 
explored  it  from  end  to  end,  and  Isabel  made  notes  of 
everything  she  saw  in  her  characteristic  way.  Space 
does  not  permit  of  giving  the  account  of  her  Portuguese 
tour  in  full,  but  we  are  fain  to  find  room  for  the  follow- 
ing descriptions  of  a  bull-fight  and  procession  at  Lisbon. 
Burton  insisted  on  taking  his  wife  (whose  loathing  of 
cruelty  to  animals  was  intense)  to  see  it,  probably  to 
accustom  her  betimes  to  the  savage  sights  and  sounds 
which  might  await  her  in  the  semi-civilized  country 
whither  they  were  bound.  "  At  first,"  she  says,  "  I 
crouched  down  with  my  hands  over  my  face,  but  I 
gradually  peeped  through  one  finger  and  then  another 
until  I  saw  the  whole  of  it."  And  this  is  what  she  saw  : 

"  On  Sunday  afternoon  at  half-past  four  we  drove  to 
the  Campo  di  Sta.  Anna,  where  stands  the  Prac.a  dos 
Touros,  or  Bull  Circus,  a  wooden  edifice  built  in  the 
time  of  Dom  Miguel.  It  is  fitted  with  five  hundred 
boxes,  and  can  contain  ten  thousand  persons.  It  is  a 
high,  round,  red  building,  ornamented.  The  circle  has 
a  barrier  and  then  a  space  all  round,  and  a  second  and 
higher  barrier  where  the  people  begin.  They  were 


234      Ubc  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  JSurton 

watering  the  ring  when  we  entered,  crackers  were  fizz- 
ing, and  the  band  was  playing.  At  five  o'clock  the 
circle  was  filled. 

"  A  blast  from  the  trumpets  announced  the  entry  of 
the  cavalleiro,  a  knight  on  a  prancing  steed  richly 
caparisoned,  which  performed  all  the  steps  and  evolu- 
tions of  the  old  Spanish  horsemanship — i.e.  saluting 
the  public  and  curveting  all  about  in  steps.  The 
cavalleiro  then  announced  the  deeds  to  be  performed, 
and  this  ceremony  was  called  '  the  greeting  of  the 
knight.'  Before  him  marched  the  bull-fighters,  who 
ranged  themselves  for  inspection  in  ranks.  They 
were  sixteen  in  number.  Eight  gallegos  were  dressed 
in  white  stockings  to  the  knee,  flesh-coloured  tights, 
green  caps  lined  with  red,  red  sashes,  and  gay,  chintz- 
patterned  jackets,  and  were  armed  with  long  pronged 
forks  like  pitchforks,  called  homens  de  forfado.  They 
were  Portuguese,  fit  and  hearty.  Two  boys  in  chocolate- 
coloured  velvet  and  gold  attended  as  pages,  and  six 
Spaniards,  who  really  did  all  the  work,  completed  the 
number.  They  were  tall,  straight,  slim,  proud,  and 
graceful,  and  they  strutted  about  with  cool  jauntiness. 
Their  dress  began  with  dandy  shoes,  then  flesh-coloured 
stockings,  velvet  tights  slashed  with  gold  or  silver,  a 
scarlet  sash,  and  a  short  jacket  that  was  a  mass  of  gold 
or  silver,  and  a  sombrero  of  fanciful  make.  Their  hair 
was  as  short  as  possible,  save  for  a  pigtail  rolled  up  like 
a  woman's  back  hair  and  knotted  with  ribbon.  There 
was  one  in  green  and  gold,  one  in  pale  blue  and  silver, 
one  in  purple  and  silver,  one  in  dark  blue  and  silver, 
one  in  chocolate  and  silver,  and  one  in  maroon  and 


H  TOp  to  Portugal  235 

silver.  The  green  and  gold  was  the  favourite  man,  on 
account  of  his  coolness,  jaunty  demeanour,  and  his 
graceful  carelessness.  The  cavalleiro  having  inspected 
them,  retired.  Another  man  then  came  out,  the  piccador. 
"  At  a  fresh  blast  of  the  horn  the  door  of  the  arena 
flew  open,  and  in  rushed  a  bull.  For  an  instant  he 
stopped,  stared  wildly  round  in  surprise,  and  gave  a 
wild  roar  of  rage.  Then  he  made  at  the  horseman, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  receive  him  at  full  gallop  and  to 
plant  the  barb  in  his  neck  before  his  horns  reached  the 
horse's  hind-quarters,  which  he  would  otherwise  have 
ripped  up.  When  the  bull  had  received  several  barbs 
from  the  piccador,  he  was  tired  of  pursuing  the  horse. 
It  was  then  the  duty  of  the  Spaniards  to  run  so  as  to 
draw  the  bull  after  them,  when  on  foot  they  planted 
two  barbs  in  his  neck.  The  instant  he  received  them 
he  roared  and  turned  off  for  an  instant,  during  which 
the  man  flew  over  the  barrier  as  lightly  as  possible. 
This  went  on  for  some  time,  the  bull  bounding  about 
with  his  tail  in  the  air  and  roaring  as  he  sought  another 
victim.  The  prettiest  part  of  it  was  the  skill  of  the 
matador  or  espada,  who  shook  a  cloak  at  the  bull.  The 
beast  immediately  rushed  at  it  as  quick  as  a  flash  of 
lightning  ;  the  espada  darted  aside,  twisted  the  cloak, 
and  changed  places  with  the  bull,  who  could  never  get 
at  him.  It  was  as  if  he  rushed  at  a  shadow.  It  was 
most  graceful.  In  the  case  of  our  green-and-gold 
espada  the  bulls  seemed  afraid  of  him.  They  retired 
before  his  gaze  as  he  knelt  down  before  them,  begging 
of  them  to  come  on ;  after  a  few  rounds  they  seemed  to 
acknowledge  a  master,  for  he  appeared  to  terrify  them. 


236      ZEbe  •Romance  of  Isabel  Xaoj?  JBurton 

The  last  act  was  that  in  which  the  gallegos  tease  the  bull 
to  run  at  them.  One,  when  the  bull  was  charging  with 
bowed  head,  jumped  between  the  horns  and  clung  on, 
allowing  himself  to  be  flung  about,  and  the  others 
caught  hold  of  the  tail  and  jumped  on  his  back,  and  he 
pranced  about  till  tired.  This  is  literally  '  seizing  the 
bull  by  the  horns/  Then  oxen  with  bells  were  turned 
in,  and  the  bull  was  supposed  to  go  off  quietly  with 
them.  We  had  thirteen  bulls,  and  the  performance 
lasted  two  hours.  The  programmes  were  crammed 
with  high-flown  language. 

"  Women  were  there  in  full  war-paint,  green  and 
pink  silk  and  white  mantillas.  Little  children  of  four 
and  five  years  old  were  there  too.  No  wonder  they  grow 
hardened  !  A  few  English  tourists  were  present  also, 
and  a  lot  of  dirty-looking  people  dressed  in  Sunday 
best.  Our  first  bull  would  go  back  with  the  cows ; 
the  second  bull  jumped  over  the  barrier,  and  gave  a 
great  deal  of  trouble,  and  very  nearly  succeeded  in 
getting  amongst  the  people.  Every  now  and  then 
a  bull  would  fly  over  the  head  of  the  bandahille  and 
jump  the  barrier  to  escape  him.  One  bull  flew  at  the 
barrier,  and,  failing  to  clear  it,  fell  backwards  ;  one  bull 
would  not  fight,  and  was  fearfully  hissed  ;  one  had  to 
be  lassoed  to  get  him  out  of  the  ring.  Once  or  twice 
gallegos  would  have  been  gored  but  for  the  balls  on 
the  bulls'  horns. 

"  After  the  first  terror  I  found  the  fight  very 
exciting.  If  it  had  been  a  bit  more  cruel  no  woman 
ought  to  have  seen  it.  I  heard  some  who  were 
accustomed  to  Spanish  bull-fights  say  it  was  very  tame. 


H  TOp  to  Portugal  237 

The  bulls'  horns  were  muffled,  so  that  they  could  not 
gore  the  horses  or  men.  Hence  there  were  no  dis- 
embowelled horses  and  dogs  lying  dead,  and  a  bull 
which  has  fought  well  is  not  unfairly  killed.  The  men 
were  bruised  though,  and  perhaps  the  horses.  The  bull 
had  some  twenty  barbs  sticking  in  the  fleshy  part  of 
his  neck.  When  he  is  lassoed  and  made  fast  in  the 
stable,  the  men  take  out  the  barbs,  wash  the  wounds 
in  vinegar  and  salt,  and  the  bull  returns  to  his  herd. 

c<  The  day  before  we  left  Portugal — Richard  for 
Brazil  and  I  for  England — I  had  also  the  good  fortune 
to  witness  a  royal  procession. 

"  Early  in  the  day  Lisbon  presented  an  appearance 
as  if  something  unusual  was  about  to  take  place.  The 
streets  were  strewed  thickly  with  soft  red  sand.  The 
corridors  were  hung  with  festoons  of  gay-coloured 
drapery,  and  silk  cloths  and  carpets  hung  from  the 
balconies,  of  blue  and  scarlet  and  yellow.  The 
cathedral  had  a  grand  box  erected  outside,  of  scarlet 
and  green  velvet. 

"  Being  Corpus  Christi,  the  great  day  of  all  the  year, 
there  was  grand  High  Mass  and  Exposition.  All  the 
bishops,  priests,  and  the  Royal  Family  attended.  In 
the  afternoon  the  streets  were  crowded  with  people  on 
foot,  curious  groups  lined  the  sides,  and  carriages  were- 
drawn  up  at  all  available  places.  At  four  o'clock 
a  flourish  of  trumpets  announced  that  the  procession 
had  issued  from  the  cathedral.  Officers,  covered  with 
decorations,  passed  to  and  fro  on  horseback.  Water- 
carriers  plied  their  aqua  fresca  trade.  Bands  played 
in  all  the  streets.  While  waiting,  Portuguese  men, 


238      Ube  Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  3Burton 

with  brazen  effrontery,  asked  permission  to  get  into 
my  carriage  to  see  the  procession  better  ;  the  rude 
shopboys  clambered  up  the  wheels,  hiding  the  view 
with  their  hats.  I  dispersed  the  men,  but  took  in  the 
children.  They  did  not  attempt  this  with  any  of  the 
Portuguese  carriages,  but  only  with  mine. 

"  The  procession  occupied  two  hours  and  a  half.  First 
came  a  troop  of  black  men,  and  a  dragon  (i.e.  a  man  in 
scaly  armour)  mounted  on  an  elephant  in  their  midst. 
The  next  group  was  St.  George  on  his  horse,  followed 
by  Britannia — a  small  girl  astride  dressed  like  Britannia. 
The  military  presented  arms  to  Britannia.  These 
groups  were  both  followed  by  led  chargers  caparisoned 
with  scarlet  velvet  trappings,  their  manes  and  tails 
plaited  with  blue  silk,  and  with  blue  plumes  on  their 
heads.  They  were  led  by  grooms  in  the  royal  livery 
of  red  and  gold.  These  were  followed  by  all  the 
different  religious  orders,  carrying  tall  candles  mounted 
in  silver,  and  a  large  silver  crucifix  in  the  centre,  and 
surrounded  by  acolytes  in  red  cloth.  Then  came 
golden  canopies,  surmounted  by  gold  and  silver 
crosses.  Then  all  the  clergy  surrounding  some  great 
ecclesiastical  dignitary — the  bishop  probably — to  whom 
the  soldiers  presented  arms.  Then  came  an  official 
with  a  gold  bell  in  a  large  gold  frame,  which  was  rung 
three  times  at  every  few  hundred  yards,  followed  by 
a  huge  red-and-yellow  canopy,  under  which  were  the 
relics  of  St.  Vincent.  Then,  carried  on  cushions,  were 
seven  mitres  covered  with  jewels,  representing  the 
seven  archbishops,  more  crosses  and  candles,  clergy  in 
copes,  and  all  the  great  people  of  the  Church.  Then 


H  Hdp  to  fl>ortu0al  239 

came  the  last  and  important  group.  It  was  headed 
by  a  procession  of  silver  lanterns  carried  by  the  bishops 
and  chief  priests.  Then  followed  a  magnificent  canopy, 
under  which  the  Cardinal  Patriarch  carried  the  Blessed 
Sacrament.  The  corners  of  the  canopy  were  held  by 
members  of  the  Royal  Family,  and  immediately  behind 
it  came  the  King.  The  troops  brought  up  the  rear. 
The  soldiers  knelt  as  the  Blessed  Sacrament  passed, 
and  we  all  went  on  our  knees  and  bowed  our  heads. 
The  King  was  tall,  dark,  and  majestic,  with  a  long 
nose  and  piercing  black  eyes,  and  he  walked  with 
grace  and  dignity.  He  wore  uniform  of  dark  blue 
with  gold  epaulettes,  and  the  Order  of  the  Garter, 
which  had  just  been  given  him." 

The  day  after  the  royal  procession  Burton  sailed 
from  Lisbon  for  Brazil.  His  wife  went  on  board  with 
him,  inspected  his  cabin,  and  saw  that  everything  was 
comfortable,  and  then  "  with  a  heavy  heart  returned  in  a 
boat  to  the  pier,  and  watched  the  vessel  slowly  steaming 
away  out  of  the  Tagus."  She  attempted  to  drive  after 
her  along  the  shore,  but  the  steamer  went  too  fast  ;  so 
she  went  to  the  nearest  church,  and  prayed  for  strength 
to  bear  the  separation.  Burton  had  told  his  wife  to 
return  to  England  by  the  next  steamer.  As  she  was 
in  the  habit  of  obeying  his  commands  very  literally, 
and  as  a  few  hours  after  he  left  Lisbon  a  little  cockle- 
shell of  a  steamer  came  in,  she  embarked  in  this  most 
unseaworthy  boat  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  though 
she  had  no  proper  accommodation  for  passengers.  They 
had  a  terrible  time  of  it  crossing  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  to 
all  the  accompaniments  of  a  raging  storm,  violent  sea- 


240      Ubc  IRomancc  of  Isabel  Xabg  JBurton 

sickness,  and  a  cabin  "  like  the  Black  Hole  of  Calcutta." 
Her  experiences  were  so  unpleasant  that  she  dubbed  the 
vessel  Te  Shippe  of  Hell.  Nevertheless,  as  was  her  wont, 
she  managed  to  see  the  ludicrous  side.  She  writes  : 

"  Our  passengers  were  some  fun.  There  was  not  a 
single  man  who  could  have  been  called  a  gentleman 
among  the  passengers,  and  only  two  ladies.  They 
were  Donna  Maria  Bita  Tenario  y  Moscoso  (a 
Portuguese  marquise),  travelling  for  her  health  with  a 
maid-companion,  and  myself  returning  with  my  maid 
to  England.  There  were  two  other  ladies  (so  called) 
with  children,  each  of  them  a  little  girl,  and  the  girls 
were  as  troublesome  as  the  monkey  and  the  dog  who 
were  with  them.  They  trod  on  our  toes,  rubbed  their 
jammy  fingers  on  our  dresses,  tore  our  leaves  out  of 
our  books,  screamed,  wanted  everything,  and  fought 
like  the  monkey  and  the  dog.  Their  papas  were  quiet, 
worthy  men.  We  had  also  on  board  a  captain  and 
mate  whose  ship  had  been  burnt  in  Morocco  with  a  full 
cargo  on  the  eve  of  returning  to  England  ;  a  gentleman 
returning  from  Teneriffe  (where  he  has  spent  twenty- 
five  years)  to  England,  his  native  land,  whom  everybody 
hoaxed  and  persuaded  him  almost  that  the  moon  was 
made  of  green  cheese  in  England  ;  a  Jew  who  ate, 
drank,  was  sick,  and  then  began  to  gorge  again,  laughed 
and  talked  and  was  sick  with  greatest  good  humour 
and  unconcern  ;  an  intelligent  and  well-mannered 
young  fellow,  English  born,  but  naturalized  in  Portugal, 
going  out  to  the  Consulate  at  Liverpool  ;  and,  lastly, 
a  Russian  gentleman,  who  looked  like  an  old  ball  of 
worsted  thrown  under  the  grate.  Nothing  was  talked 


H  Urip  to  iportugal  241 

of  but  sickness  and  so  forth  ;  but  I  must  say  they  were 
all  good-hearted,  good-humoured,  and  good-natured, 
and  their  kindness  to  each  other  on  the  voyage  nothing 
could  exceed.  The  two  terrible  children  aforesaid 
were  a  great  amusement  in  Te  Shippe.  One  used  to 
tease  a  monkey  by  boiling  an  egg  hard  and  giving  it 
him  hot,  to  see  him  toss  it  from  paw  to  paw,  and  then 
holding  a  looking-glass  before  him,  for  him  to  see  his 
grimaces  and  antics  and  other  tricks  ;  and  the  other 
child  was  always  teasing  a  poor  Armenian  priest  born 
in  Jerusalem.  He  had  taken  a  second-class  passage 
amongst  the  sailors  and  common  men.  The  first  class 
was  bad  enough.  God  help  the  second  !  They  would 
not  give  the  poor  man  anything  to  eat,  and  bullied  and 
teased  him.  He  bore  up  in  such  a  manly  way  my  heart 
ached  for  him  and  made  me  blush  for  the  British  snob. 
I  used  to  load  my  pockets  with  things  for  him  when  I 
left  the  table,  and  got  the  first  class  to  admit  him  to 
our  society  under  an  awning  ;  but  the  captain  would 
not  have  him  in  the  cabin  or  on  the  upper  deck.  Our 
skipper  was  a  rough  man,  having  risen  from  a  common 
sailor,  but  pleasant  enough  when  in  a  polite  humour. 
The  third  amusement  was  the  fallals  of  our  maids,  who 
were  much  more  ill  and  helpless  than  their  mistresses. 
They  were  always  *  dying,'  '  wouldn't  get  up,' '  couldn't 
walk,'  but  had  to  be  supported  by  the  gentlemen. 
There  was  great  joy  on  the  sixth  day  because  we 
thought  we  saw  land.  It  might  have  been  a  fog-bank ; 
it  might  have  been  Portland  Bill ;  anyway,  we  began  to 
pack  and  prepare  and  bet  who  would  sleep  ashore. 
We  awoke  on  the  seventh  day  in  a  fog  off  Beachy 
VOL.  i.  1 6 


242      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

Head  at  4.30  a.m.,  and  lay  to  and  whistled.  Some 
time  after  we  passed  Eastbourne,  and  then  ran  plank 
along  the  coast.  How  pretty  the  white  walls  of 
England  looked  in  the  morning  sun  !  At  night  we 
reached  Gravesend  ;  but  there  was  too  little  water,  and 
we  went  aground  at  Erith,  where  we  were  obliged 
to  stay  till  next  morning,  owing  to  the  bad  fog  and 
no  water.  However,  we  made  our  way  up  to  St. 
^Catherine's  wharf  at  ten.  There  was  an  awful  bustle  ; 
but  I  disturbed  the  whole  ship  to  land  ;  and  taking  my 
Portuguese  marquise  under  my  wing,  I  fought  my  way 
to  shore.  I  arrived  home  at  noon — a  happy  meeting  in 
the  bosom  of  my  family." 

Arrived  in  London,  Isabel  at  once  set  to  work  to 
complete  her  preparations  for  her  departure  to  Brazil. 
It  was  a  habit  with  the  Burtons  all  through  their  lives 
that,  whenever  they  were  leaving  England  for  any  length 
of  time,  Burton  started  first  in  light  marching  order  to 
prospect  the  place,  leaving  his  wife  behind  to  pay, 
pack,  and  bring  up  the  heavy  baggage  in  the  rear.  This 
was  the  case  in  the  present  instance.  When  her  work 
was  done,  Isabel  found  she  had  still  ten  days  on  her 
hands  before  the  steamer  sailed  from  Southampton  for 
Rio.  So  temporal  affairs  being  settled  for  the  nonce, 
she  turned  her  attention  to  her  spiritual  needs,  and 
prepared  herself  for  her  new  life  by  prayer  and  other 
religious  exercise.  She  went  into  retreat  for  a  week 
at  the  Convent  of  the  Assumption,  Kensington  Square. 
The  following  meditation  is  taken  from  her  devotional 
book  of  that  period  : 

"  I  am  to  bear  all  joyfully,  as  an  atonement  to  save 


B  Urtp  to  {Portugal  343 

Richard.  How  thoughtful  for  me  has  been  God's 
dispensation !  He  rescued  me  from  a  fate  which, 
though  it  was  a  happy  one,  I  pined  in,  because  I  was 
intended  for  a  higher  destiny  and  yearned  for  it.  Let 
me  not  think  that  my  lot  is  to  be  exempt  from  trials, 
nor  shrink  from  them,  but  let  me  take  pain  and  pleasure 
alike.  Let  me  summon  health  and  spirits  and  nerves 
to  my  aid,  for  I  have  asked  and  obtained  a  most  diffi- 
cult mission,  and  I  must  acquire  patient  endurance  of 
suffering,  resistance  of  evil,  and  take  difficulties  and 
pain  with  courage  and  even  with  avidity.  My  mission 
and  my  religion  must  be  uppermost.  As  I  asked 
ardently  for  this  mission — none  other  than  to  be 
Richard's  wife — let  me  not  forget  to  ask  as  ardently 
for  grace  to  carry  it  out,  and  let  me  do  all  I  can  to  lay 
up  such  store  as  will  remain  with  me  beyond  the  grave. 
I  have  bought  bitter  experiences,  but  much  has,  I  hope, 
been  forgiven  me.  I  belong  to  God — the  God  who 
made  all  this  beautiful  world  which  perpetually  makes 
my  heart  so  glad.  I  cannot  see  Him,  but  I  feel  Him ; 
He  is  with  me,  within  me,  around  me,  everywhere.  If 
I  lost  Him,  what  would  become  of  me  ?  How  I  have 
bowed  down  before  my  husband's  intellect !  If  I  lost 
Richard,  life  would  be  worthless.  Yet  he  and  I  and  life 
are  perishable,  and  will  soon  be  over  ;  but  God  and  my 
soul  and  eternity  are  everlasting.  I  pray  to  be  better 
moulded  to  the  will  of  God,  and  for  love  of  Him  to 
become  indifferent  to  what  may  befall  me." 

The  next  week  Isabel  sailed  from  Southampton  to 
join  her  husband  at  Rio. 


CHAPTER   V 

BRAZIL 
(1865—1867) 

For  to  share  is  the  bliss  of  heaven,  as  it  is  the  joy  of  earth; 

And  the  unshared  bread  lacks  savour,  and  the  wine  unshared  lacks  zest ; 

And  the  joy  of  the  soul  redeemed  would  be  little,  little  worth, 

If,  content  with  its  own  security,  it  could  forget  the  rest. 

ISABEL  had  a  pleasant  voyage  out  to  Brazil,  and 
witnessed  for  the  first  time  the  ceremonies  of 
"  crossing  the  Line,"  Neptune,  and  the  tubbing, 
shaving,  climbing  the  greasy  pole,  sack  races,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it.  When  the  ship  arrived  at  Pernambuco, 
on  August  27,  Isabel  found  all  the  letters  she  had 
written  to  her  husband  since  they  had  parted  at  Lisbon 
accumulated  at  the  post-office.  This  upset  her  so  much 
that,  while  the  other  passengers  were  dancing  and 
making  merry,  she  stole  on  deck  and  passed  the 
evening  in  tears,  or,  to  use  her  own  phrase,  she  had 
"  a  good  boohoo  in  the  moonlight." 

A  few  days  later  the  ship  reached  Rio  de  Janeiro. 
Burton  came  on  board  to  meet  her,  and  she  had  the 
joy  of  personally  delivering  the  overdue  letters  into  his 
hands. 

They  stayed  five  or  six  weeks  in  Rio,  at  the  Estran- 

244 


245 

geiros  Hotel,  and  enjoyed  a  good  deal  of  society,  and 
made  several  excursions  into  the  country  round  about. 
They  were  well  received  by  the  European  society  of  the 
place,  which  was  chiefly  naval  and  diplomatic.  This 
was  pleasant  for  Isabel,  who  could  never  quite  accommo- 
date herself  to  the  somewhat  second-rate  position  to 
which  the  English  Consul  and  his  wife  are  generally 
relegated  by  foreign  courts  (more  so  then  than  now). 
Isabel  was  always  sensitive  about  the  position  abroad 
of  her  husband  and  herself.  In  the  ordinary  way,  at 
many  foreign  capitals,  the  consul  and  his  wife  are  not 
permitted  to  attend  court,  and  the  line  of  demarca- 
tion between  the  Consular  and  Diplomatic  service  is 
rigidly  drawn.  But  Isabel  would  have  none  of  this, 
and  she  demanded  and  obtained  the  position  which 
belonged  to  her  by  birth,  and  to  her  husband  by 
reason  of  his  famous  and  distinguished  public  services. 
Burton  himself  cared  nothing  for  these  things,  and 
his  wife  only  cared  for  them  because  she  had  an  idea 
they  would  help  him  on  in  his  career.  That  her 
efforts  in  this  direction  did  help  him  there  is  no  doubt ; 
but  in  some  ways  they  may  have  hindered  too,  for  they 
aroused  jealousy  in  certain  small  minds  among  his 
colleagues  in  the  Consular  service,  who  disliked  to  see 
the  Burtons  taking  a  social  position  superior  to  their 
own.  The  fact  is  that  both  Richard  Burton  and  his 
wife  were  simply  thrown  away  in  the  Consular  service  ; 
they  were  too  big  for  their  position,  in  energy,  in  ability, 
in  every  way.  They  had  no  field  for  their  activities, 
and  their  large  and  ardent  natures  perpetually  chafed 
at  the  restraints  and  petty  annoyances  resulting  from 


246      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

their  semi-inferior  position.  Except  at  Damascus,  they 
were  round  pegs  in  square  holes.  Burton  was  not 
of  the  stuff  to  make  a  good  consul ;  and  the  same, 
relatively  speaking,  may  be  said  of  his  wife.  They 
were  both  of  them  in  a  false  position  from  the  start. 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter  which  Isabel 
wrote  home  shortly  after  her  arrival  in  Brazil  is  of 
interest  in  this  connexion : 

"  I  dare  say  some  of  my  friends  do  not  know  what  a 
consul  is.  I  am  sure  I  had  not  the  remotest  idea  until 
I  came  here,  and  then  I  find  it  is  very  much  what 
Lady  Augusta  thinks  in  The  Eramleighs^  written  by 
a  much-respected  member  of  our  cloth,  Charles  Lever, 
consul  at  Trieste.  '  Isn't  a  consul,'  she  asks,  *  a  horrid 
creature  that  Jives  in  a  seaport,  and  worries  merchant 
seamen,  and  imprisons  people  who  have  no  passports? 
Papa  always  wrote  to  the  consul  about  getting  heavy 
baggage  through  the  custom-house ;  and  when  our 
servants  quarrelled  with  the  porters,  or  the  hotel  people, 
it  was  the  consul  sent  some  of  them  to  jail.  But  you  are 
aware,  darling,  he  isn't  a  creature  one  knows.  They 
are  simply  impossible,  dear — impossible  !  The  moment 
a  gentleman  touches  an  emploi  it's  all  over  with  him — 
from  that  hour  he  becomes  the  Customs  creature,  or  the 
consul,  or  the  factor,  or  whatever  it  be,  irrevocably.  Do 
you  know  that  is  the  only  way  to  keep  men  of  family 
out  of  small  official  life?  We  should  see  them  keeping 
lighthouses  if  it  were  not  for  the  obloquy.'  Now,  alas  ! 
dear,  as  you  are  well  aware,  I  do  know  what  a  consul  is, 
and  what  it  is  to  be  settled  down  in  a  place  that  my 
Irish  maid  calls  the  '  end  of  God's  speed,'  whatever  that 


247 

may  be  ;  but  which  I  interpret  that,  after  Providence 
made  the  world,  being  Saturday  night,  all  the  rubbish 
was  thrown  down  here  and  forgotten." 

She  was  over-sensitive  on  this  point,  and  keenly  alive 
to  slights  from  those  who,  though  inferior  in  other 
respects,  were  superior  in  official  position,  and  who  were 
jealous  when  they  saw  "  only  the  Consul's  wife  "  playing 
the  grande  dame.  They  were  unable  to  understand  that 
a  woman  of  Isabel's  calibre  could  hardly  play  any  other 
part  in  whatever  position  she  found  herself.  Fortu- 
nately, through  the  kindness  of  Sir  Edward  and  Lady 
Thornton  (Sir  Edward  was  then  British  Minister  at 
Rio),  she  experienced  very  few  of  these  annoyances 
at  Rio ;  and  she  always  remembered  their  goodness  to 
her  in  this  respect.  The  Emperor  and  Empress  also 
took  the  Burtons  up,  and  made  much  of  them. 

On  this  their  first  sojourn  in  Rio  everything  was 
most  pleasant.  The  Diplomatic  society,  thanks  to  Sir 
Edward  and  Lady  Thornton,  welcomed  the  Burtons 
with  open  arms.  A  lady  who  occupied  a  prominent 
position  in  the  Diplomatic  circle  of  Rio  at  that  time 
has  told  me  the  following  about  Isabel :  "  We  liked 
her  from  the  first,  and  we  were  always  glad  to  see 
her  when  she  came  up  to  Rio  or  Petropolis  from  Sao 
Paulo.  She  was  a  handsome,  fascinating  woman,  full 
of  fun  and  high  spirits,  and  the  very  best  of  good 
company.  It  was  impossible  to  be  dull  with  her,  for 
she  was  a  brilliant  talker,  and  always  had  some  witty 
anecdotes  or  tales  of  her  adventures  to  tell  us.  She 
was  devoted  to  her  husband  and  his  interests,  and  was 
never  tired  of  singing  his  praises.  She  was  a  great 


248      TTbe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burtou 

help  to  him  in  every  way,  for  he  by  no  means  shared 
her  popularity." 

At  Rio/Isabel  gave  her  first  dinner-party — the  first 
since  her  marriage ;  and  here  she  got  a  touch  of  fever, 
which  lasted  for  some  time. 

When  she  was  sufficiently  recovered,  the  Burtons 
left  Rio  for  Santos  (their  consulate,  one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  to  the  south).  They  went  down  on  board 
H.M.S.  Triton,  and  on  arrival  were  saluted  by  the 
usual  number  of  guns.  The  Consular  Corps  were 
in  attendance,  and  the  Brazilian  local  magnates  came 
to  visit  them.  Thus  began  Isabel's  first  experience 
of  official  life. 

Santos  was  only  a  mangrove  swamp,  and  in  many 
respects  as  unhealthy  as  Fernando  Po.  Burton  had 
come  down  and  inspected  the  place  before  the  arrival 
of  his  wife  at  Rio;  and  he  had  arranged,  as  there  were 
two  places  equally  requiring  the  presence  of  a  consul — 
Sao  Paulo  on  the  top  of  the  Serra,  and  Santos  low  down 
on  the  coast — that  Isabel  should  live  for  the  most  part 
at  Sao  Paulo,  which  was  comparatively  healthy,  and  that 
they  should  ride  up  and  down  between  Santos  and  Sao 
Paulo  as  need  required.  For  an  Englishwoman  to  have 
lived  always  at  Santos  would  have  been  fatal  to  her 
health.  The  railway  between  Santos  and  Sao  Paulo  was 
then  in  process  of  being  made.  As  they  had  determined 
not  to  sleep  at  Santos,  the  Burtons  went  the  same  day 
on  trolleys  along  the  new  line  as  far  as  Mugis,  where 
they  stayed  the  night.  The  next  day,  by  dint  of  mules, 
walking,  riding,  and  occasional  trolleys,  they  got  to  the 
top  of  the  Serra,  a  very  precipitous  climb.  At  the  top 


249 

a  locomotive  took  them  to  Sao  Paulo,  where  they  put 
up  at  a  small  inn.  The  next  day  Burton  had  to  go 
down  to  Santos  to  establish  his  consulate ;  but  his  wife 
remained  at  Sao  Paulo  to  look  for  a  house,  and,  as  she 
said,  "set  up  our  first  real  home." 

In  about  a  fortnight  she  followed  him  down  to 
Santos  in  the  diligence,  and  remained  there  until  the 
swamps  gave  her  a  touch  of  fever.  She  then  went  up 
to  Sao  Paulo  again,  and  after  some  difficulty  found  a 
house.  This  was  in  the  latter  part  of  1865.  The 
whole  of  the  next  eighteen  months  was  spent  between 
Sao  Paulo  and  Santos,  varied  at  long  intervals  by  a  trip 
to  Rio,  or  a  visit  to  Barra,  the  watering-place,  or  ex- 
cursions in  the  country  round  Sao  Paulo.  Burton  was 
often  away  on  his  consular  duties  or  on  expeditions  to 
far-away  places,  and  his  wife  was  necessarily  left  much 
alone  at  Sao  Paulo,  where  she  led  a  life  more  like 
"  farmhouse  life,"  to  use  her  own  phrase,  than  anything 
else.  There  were  many  and  great  drawbacks  arising 
from  the  unhealthy  climate,  the  insects  and  vermin, 
and  the  want  of  congenial  society.  But  Isabel  was 
one  of  those  who  manage  to  get  enjoyment  out  of 
the  most  unlikely  surroundings,  and  she  always  made 
the  best  of  circumstances  and  the  material  at  her 
disposal.  As  one  has  said  of  her,  "  If  she  had  found 
herself  in  a  coal-hole,  she  would  immediately  have 
set  to  work  to  arrange  the  coals  to  the  best  possible 
advantage." 

On  the  whole,  this  period  of  her  life  (December,  1865, 
to  June,  1867)  was  a  happy  one.  The  story  of  it  is 
best  told  in  a  series  of  letters  which  she  wrote  to  her 


250      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  JSurton 

mother  ;  and  from  them  I  have  been  permitted  to  make 
the  following  extracts  : 

"SAo  PAULO,  December  15,  1865. 

"I  do  hate  Santos.  The  climate  is  beastly,  the 
people  fluffy.  The  stinks,  the  vermin,  the  food,  the 
niggers  are  all  of  a  piece.  There  are  no  walks  ;  and  if 
you  go  one  way,  you  sink  knee-deep  in  mangrove  swamps ; 
another  you  are  covered  with  sand-flies  ;  and  a  third  is 
crawling  up  a  steep  mountain  by  a  mule-path  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  sea  beyond  the  lagoons  which  surround 
Santos.  I  stayed  there  a  fortnight  and  some  days,  and 
I  got  quite  ill  and  peevish.  At  last  Richard  was  to 
go  to  Ignipe,  and  I  to  Sao  Paulo  again.  I  started  on 
Tuesday,  the  1 2th,  at  one  in  the  day  ;  and  as  it  was  so 
fine  I  sent  all  my  cloaks  and  warm  wraps  away,  and 
started  in  a  boat,  as  for  two  hours  from  Santos  the  roads 
had  overflowed.  Then  I  took  the  diligence,  which  is  an 
open  van  with  seven  mules,  and  got  the  box-seat  to 
enjoy  the  country.  It  rained  in  buckets,  and  thundered 
and  lightened  all  the  way.  We  dined  in  a  roadside 
hut  on  black  beans  and  garlic,  I  and  strange  travelling 
companions,  and  arrived  in  eleven  and  a  half  hours.  I 
had  only  a  cotton  gown  on  and  no  shawl,  and  Kier  (my 
maid)  said  I  came  to  the  door  like  a  shivering  charity- 
girl,  with  the  rain  streaming  off  the  brim  of  my  hat. 
Kier  gave  me  some  tea  with  brandy,  groomed  me  down 
with  brandy  and  water,  and  put  me  between  blankets. 
They  think  me  a  wonderful  person  here  for  being  so 
independent,  as  all  the  ladies  are  namby-pamby.  To 
go  up  and  down  by  myself  between  Santos  and  Sao 


251 

Paulo  is  quite  a  masculine  feat.  I  am  the  only  woman 
who  ever  crossed  the  Serra  outside  the  diligence,  and 
the  only  lady  or  woman  who  ever  walked  across  the 
viaduct,  which  is  now  a  couple  of  planks  wide  across 
the  valley,  with  one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  to  fall  if 
you  slip  or  get  giddy.  I  saw  every  one  staring  at  me 
and  holding  up  their  hands  ;  and  I  was  not  aware  I  had 
done  anything  odd,  till  I  landed  safely  the  other  side, 
and  saw  all  the  rest  going  round.  The  next  day  two 
of  the  workmen  fell  off  and  were  killed. 

"  You  asked  me  to  tell  you  about  Sao  Paulo. 

"  I  have  taken  a  house  in  the  town  itself,  because  if 
Richard  has  to  be  away  often,  I  should  not  feel  very 
safe  with  only  Kier,  out  in  the  country  amongst  lawless 
people  and  beasts.  The  part  of  the  town  I  am  in  is 
very  high,  on  a  good  eminence,  and  therefore  dry  and 
healthy,  a  nice  little  street,  though  narrow.  I  have  an 
appartement  furnished  ;  four  rooms  to  myself  and  the 
use  of  three  others,  and  the  kitchen,  the  servant  of 
the  house,  and  everything  but  food,  for  150  milreis, 
or  £15  a  month. 

"  Behind  is  a  yard  and  a  patch  of  flowers,  which 
people  of  sanguine  temperaments  might  call  a  garden, 
where  we  keep  barrels  of  water  for  washing  or  drinking. 
We  have  to  buy  water  at  threepence  a  gallon. 

"  As  to  furniture,  in  the  Brazils  they  put  many 
things  into  a  house  which  you  do  not  want,  and  nothing 
you  do.  I  have  had  their  hard,  lumbering,  buggy  beds 
removed,  and  have  put  up  our  own  little  iron  English 
bedsteads  with  spring  mattresses.  I  slept  in  my  own 
cosy  little  bed  from  Montagu  Place  last  night  for  the 


252      Ube  "Romance  of  5sabel  Xaog  Burton 

first  time  since  it  left  my  room  there  (now  Billy's)  ;  I 
kissed  it  with  delight,  and  jumped  in  it.  I  also  bought 
one  in  London  for  Richard. 

"  My  servants  consist  of  Kier,  and  one  black  boy,  a 
very  curious  dwarf  as  black  as  the  grate,  named  Chico. 
He  is  honest  and  sharp  as  a  needle,  and  can  do  every- 
thing. All  the  English  here  wanted  him,  and  did  their 
best  to  prevent  his  coming  to  me  ;  but  he  ran  away, 
and  came  to  me  for  less  than  half  the  money  he  asked 
them ;  and  he  watches  me  like  a  dog,  and  flies  for  every- 
thing I  want.  I  shall  bring  him  home  with  me  when 
I  come.  The  slaves  here  have  to  work  night  and  day, 
and  people  treat  them  like  mules,  with  an  utter  dis- 
regard for  their  personal  comforts.  There  is  something 
superior  and  refined  in  my  dwarf,  and  I  treat  him  with 
the  same  consideration  as  I  would  a  white  servant ;  I 
see  that  he  has  plenty  of  good  food,  a  good  bed,  and 
proper  exercise  and  sleep,  and  he  works  none  the  worse 
for  it. 

"Sao  Paulo  itself  is  a  pretty,  white,  straggling  town 
on  a  hill  and  running  down  into  a  high  table-land, 
which  is  well  wooded  and  watered,  and  mountains  all 
round  in  the  distance.  We  are  about  three  thousand 
feet  above  sea-level.  It  is  a  fine  climate,  too  hot  from 
nine  till  four  in  summer,  but  fairly  cool  all  the  other 
hours.  No  cockroaches,  fleas,  bugs,  and  sand-flies,  but 
only  mosquitoes  and  jiggers.  Out  in  the  country  there 
are  snakes,  monkeys,  jaguars,  and  wild  cats, 'scorpion- 
centipedes,  and  spiders,  but  not  in  the  town.  Of  course 
it  is  dull  for  those  who  have  time  to  be  dull,  and  very 
expensive.  For  those  who  are  launched  in  Brazilian 


253 

society,  it  is  a  fast  and  immoral  place,  without  any  chic 
or  style.  It  is  full  of  students,  and  no  one  is  religious 
or  honest  in  money  matters ;  and  I  should  never  be 
surprised  if  fire  were  rained  down  upon  it,  as  in  a  city 
of  the  Old  Testament,  for  want  of  a  just  Brazilian. 
En  revanche  it  is  very  healthy,  and  only  one  month's 
journey  to  England. 

"  I  have  had  my  first  jigger  since  I  wrote.  A  jigger 
is  a  little  dirty  insect  like  a  white  tick  that  gets  into 
your  foot,  under  your  toe-nail  if  possible,  burrows,  and 
makes  a  large  bag  of  eggs.  It  itches  ;  and  if  you  are 
wise,  you  send  at  once  for  a  negress,  and  she  picks  it 
out  with  a  common  pin :  if  you  do  it  yourself,  you  break 
its  bag,  and  your  foot  festers.  I  knew  nothing  about  it, 
and  left  it  for  eight  days,  and  found  I  could  not  walk 
for  a  little  black  lump  in  my  foot,  which  spurted  fluid 
like  ink  when  I  touched  it.  At  last  my  nigger  asked 
me  to  let  him  look  at  it,  and  he  got  a  sharp  pair  of 
scissors  and  took  it  out.  It  was  like  a  white  bag  this 
size  o,  with  a  black  head,  and  it  left  quite  a  hole  in 
my  foot.  You  cannot  walk  about  here  without  your 
shoes,  and  they  must  be  full  of  camphor,  or  the  jiggers 
get  into  your  feet,  and  people  have  their  nails  taken 
off"  to  extract  them,  and  sometimes  their  toes  and 
feet  cut  off." 

11  SAO  PAULO,  January  3,  1866. 

"  I  have  had  twelve  hard  days'  work,  from  six  in  the 
morning  till  late  at  night,  with  Kier  and  my  black  boy. 
We  have  had  to  unpack  fifty-nine  pieces  of  baggage, 
wash  the  dirty  trunks  and  stow  them  away,  sort,  dry, 


254      ftbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

and  clean  all  their  contents,  and  arrange  ourselves  in 
our  rooms.  We  are  now  comfortable  for  the  moment ; 
but  we  shall  not  stay  here  very  long.  There  are  many 
disagreeables  in  the  house  which  I  did  not  know  till  I 
had  settled  in  it  and  taken  it  for  four  months.  For 
example,  I  have  rented  it  from  a  French  family  who  are 
composed,  it  appears,  of  odds  and  ends,  and  they  have 
the  same  right  as  myself  to  two  of  these  rooms,  the 
salon  and  the  storeroom,  so  I  am  not  alone  and  cannot 
do  as  I  like  ;  and,  worst  of  all,  one  of  them  is  a  lady 
who  will  come  up  and  call  on  me.  I  am  obliged  to 
send  to  her  and  beg  to  be  excused,  which  is  disagreeable. 
She  is,  it  appears,  a  notorious  personage.  Richard  is 
gone  to  the  mines,  and  has  been  away  now  nearly  three 
weeks  ;  and  I  have  taken  it  upon  myself  to  rent  a  very 
nice  house  opposite  this  one.  The  English  here  mis- 
lead one  about  expenses  ;  I  am  obliged  to  buy  my  own 
experience,  and  I  do  not  expect  to  shake  down  into  my 
income  for  three  or  four  months  more.  The  English 
like  to  appear  grand,  saving  all  the  while  ;  and  they 
like  to  show  me  off  as  their  lady  consul,  and  make 
me  run  into  expenses,  while  I  want  honestly  to  live 
within  £700  a  year,  and  have  as  much  comfort  as 
that  will  allow  us.  It  will  only  go  as  far  as  ,£300  in 
England." 

"SAo  PAULO,  January  17,  1866. 

"  I  have  settled  down  in  my  furnished  apartments 
with  Kier  and  Chico,  and  am  chiefly  employed  in 
arranging  domestic  expenses,  studying  Portuguese,  and 
practising  my  music.  Richard  has  been  gone  to  the 


255 

mines  a  month,  and  returned  to  Santos  yesterday  ;  so  I 
conclude  he  will  be  up  here  in  a  few  days.  It  is  our 
fifth  wedding  day  on  the  22nd.  Here  every  one  wants 
to  let  his  own  especial  dog-hole  to  us,  so  it  is  very  hard 
to  get  settled.  The  house  is  a  nice,  large,  roomy  one, 
with  good  views.  Kier  and  I  and  Chico,  with  the 
assistance  of  a  friend's  servant,  are  painting,  white- 
washing, and  papering  it  ourselves.  Only  fancy,  the 
Brazilians  are  dreadfully  shocked  at  me  for  working ! 
They  never  do  anything  but  live  in  rags,  filth,  and  dis- 
comfort at  the  back  of  their  houses,  and  have  one  show- 
room and  one  show-dress  for  strangers,  eat  fejao  (black 
beans),  and  pretend  they  are  spending  the  deuce  and 
all.  The  eighth  deadly  sin  here  is  to  be  poor,  or  worse, 
economical.  They  say  I  am  economical,  because  I  work 
myself.  I  said  to  one  of  the  principal  ladies  yesterday : 
f  Yes,  I  am  economical ;  but  I  spend  all  I  have,  and  do 
not  save  ;  I  pay  my  debts,  and  make  my  husband  com- 
fortable ;  and  we  are  always  well  fed  and  well  dressed, 
and  clean  at  both  ends  of  our  house.  That's  English 
way ! '  So  she  shut  up." 

"SAO  PAULO,  March  g,  1866. 

"  I  got  the  same  crying  fit  about  you,  dear  mother, 
last  week,  as  I  did  at  Lisbon,  starting  up  in  the  night 
and  screaming  out  that  you  were  dead  ;  I  find  I  do  it 
whenever  I  am  over-fatigued  and  weak.  The  chance 
of  losing  you  is  what  weighs  most  on  my  mind,  and  it 
is  therefore  my  nightmare  when  I  am  not  strong ;  not 
but  what  when  awake  I  am  perfectly  confident  that  we 
shall  meet  again  before  another  year  is  out. 


256      ZTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaoy  JBurton 

"  I  caught  a  cobra  snake  yesterday  in  our  garden, 
and  bottled  it  in  spirits,  and  also  heaps  of  spiders,  whose 
bite  is  like  a  cobra's — they  are  about  the  size  of  half  a 
crown." 

"SAo  PAULO,  April  18,  1866. 

"  I  have  had  a  great  row  in  my  house  last  night ;  but 
when  you  write  back,  you  must  not  mention  it,  because 
Richard  was  fortunately  out,  and  I  do  not  want  him  to 
know  it.  Chico  has  taken  a  great  dislike  to  the  young 
gentleman  who  lodges  in  my  house  downstairs,  because 
he  has  called  him  names  ;  so  last  night,  Richard  being 
away,  he  got  a  pail  full  of  slops  and  watched  for  him 
like  a  monkey  to  fling  it  all  over  him  ;  but  the  young 
man  caught  sight  of  him,  and  gave  him  a  kick  that  sent 
him  and  the  pail  flying  into  the  air.  I  heard  a  great 
noise  and  went  down,  ill  as  I  was,  and  found  the  little 
imp  chattering  like  a  monkey,  and  showing  his  teeth  ;  so 
I  made  him  go  down  on  his  knees  and  beg  the  young 
man's  pardon.  I  was  going  to  send  him  away  ;  but 
to-day  he  came  and  knelt  and  kissed  the  ground  before 
me,  and  implored  me  to  forgive  him  this  once,  and  he 
would  never  do  such  a  thing  again ;  so  I  have  promised 
this  time,  and  will  not  tell  Richard.  Richard  would 
half  kill  him  if  he  knew  it ;  so  you  must  none  of  you 
write  back  any  jokes." 

"SAo  PAULO,  May  14,  1866. 

"  My  house  is  now  completely  finished,  and  looks 
very  pretty  and  comfortable  in  a  barnlike  way.  I 
shall  be  so  pleased  to  receive  the  candlesticks  and  vases 


357 

for  my  altar  as  a  birthday  present,  and  the  Mater 
Dolorosa.  My  chapel  is  the  only  really  pretty  and 
refined  part  of  my  house,  except  the  terrace  ;  the  rooms 
are  rough  and  coarse  with  holes  and  chinks,  but  with 
all  that  is  absolutely  necessary  in  them,  and  they  are 
large  and  airy.  I  painted  my  chapel  myself,  white  with 
a  blue  border  and  a  blue  domed  ceiling  and  a  gilt 
border.  I  first  nailed  thin  bits  of  wood  over  the  rat- 

V 

holes  in  the  floor,  and  then  covered  it  with  Indian 
matting.  I  have  painted  inscriptions  on  the  walls  in 
blue.  I  have  always  a  lamp  burning,  and  the  altar  is  a 
mass  of  flowers.  It  is  of  plain  wood  with  the  Holy 
Stone  let  in,  and  covered  with  an  Indian  cloth,  and 
again  with  a  piece  of  lace.  I  have  white  muslin  curtains 
in  a  semicircle  opening  in  the  middle. 

"  On  May  5  my  landlord's  child  was  christened  in 
my  chapel.  They  asked  me  to  lend  it  to  them  for  the 
occasion,  so  I  decorated  the  chapel  and  made  it  very 
pretty.  I  thought  they  would  christen  the  child,  take 
a  glass  of  wine  and  a  bit  of  cake,  and  depart  within  an 
hour.  To  my  discomfort  they  brought  a  lot  of  friends, 
children,  and  niggers,  and  they  stopped  six  hours, 
during  which  I  had  to  entertain  them  (in  Portuguese). 
They  ran  all  over  my  house,  pulled  about  everything, 
ate  and  drank  everything,  spat  on  my  clean  floors, 
made  me  hold  the  child  to  be  christened,  and  it  was  a 
year  old,  and  kicked  and  screamed  like  a  young  colt  all 
the  time.  Part  of  the  ceremony  was  that  I  had  to 
present  a  silver  sword  about  the  size  of  a  dagger,  orna- 
mented with  mock  jewels,  to  the  statue  of  Our  Lady 
for  the  child.  I  had  a  very  pleasant  day ! 

VOL.  i.  17 


258      Ube  Romance  of  Isabel  Zaop  JBurton 

"  One  day  we  walked  almost  six  miles  out  of  Sao 
Paulo  up  the  mountains  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to  a 
small  wayside  chapel ;  and  there  we  had  Sao  Paulo  like 
a  map  at  our  feet,  and  all  the  glorious  mountains  round 
us,  and  we  sat  under  a  banana  tree  and  spread  our 
lunch  and  ate  it,  and  stayed  all  day  and  walked  back 
in  the  cool  of  the  evening.  Some  of  these  South 
American  evening  scenes  are  very  lovely  and  on  a 
magnificent  scale.  The  canoes  paddling  down  the  river, 
the  sun  setting  on  the  mountains,  the  large  foliage  and 
big  insects,  the  cool,  sweet-scented  atmosphere,  and  a 
sort  of  evening  hum  in  the  air,  the  angelus  in  the 
distance,  the  thrum  of  the  guitars  from  the  blacks 
going  home  from  work — all  add  to  the  charm.  Richard 
came  home  on  Saturday,  the  I2th,  after  a  pleasant  nine- 
teen days'  ride  in  the  interior.  He  went  to  pay  a  visit 
to  some  French  savants  in  some  village,  and  they  took 
him  for  a  Brazilian  Government  spy,  and  were  very 
rude  to  him,  and  finding  afterwards  who  he  was  wrote 
him  an  humble  apology.  On  June  I  I  am  going  up  to 
Rio.  Richard  is  going  to  read  his  travels  before  the 
Emperor.  The  Comte  and  Comtesse  d'Eu  have  asked 
us  to  their  palace  ;  but  I  do  not  think  we  shall  go  there, 
as  there  will  be  too  much  etiquette  to  permit  of  our 
attending  to  our  affairs." 

41  PETROPOLIS,  ABOVE  Rio,  June  22,  1866. 

"  Petropolis  is  a  bit  of  table-land  about  three  thousand 
feet  high  in  the  mountains,  just  big  enough  to  contain 
a  pretty,  white,  straggling  town,  with  a  river  running 
through  it — a  town  composed  of  villas  and  gardens,  and 


259 

inhabited  by  the  Diplomatic  Corps.  It  is  a  Diplomatic 
nest,  in  fact.  This  small  settlement  is  surrounded  by 
the  mountain-tops,  and  on  all  sides  between  them  are 
wild  panoramic  views.  We  went  the  other  day  to  be 
presented  to  the  Emperor  and  Empress.  The  first 
time  we  were  taken  by  the  Vicomte  and  Vicomtesse 
Barbac,ena.  She  is  one  of  the  Empress's  favourites. 
I  was  in  grand  toilet,  and  Richard  in  uniform.  The 
palace  is  in  a  beautiful  locality,  but  not  grander  than 
Crewe,  or  any  English  country  gentleman's  place.  We 
were  ushered  through  lines  of  corridors  by  succes- 
sions of  chamberlains,  and  in  a  few  moments  into  the 
imperial  presence.  The  Emperor  is  a  fine  man,  about 
six  feet  two  inches,  with  chestnut  hair,  blue  eyes, 
and  broad  shoulders,  and  has  manly  manners.  He 
was  very  cordial  to  us,  and  after  a  short  audience 
we  were  passed  on  to  the  Empress's  reception-room, 
where,  after  the  usual  kissing  of  hands,  we  sat  down 
and  conversed  for  about  twenty  minutes  (always  in 
French).  She  is  a  daughter  of  Ferdinand  II.  of  Naples; 
and  the  Emperor,  as  you  know,  is  Pedro,  the  son  of 
Pedro  I.,  the  first  Emperor  of  Brazil  and  King  of 
Portugal. 

"  The  second  time  the  Emperor  kept  Richard  two 
hours  and  a  half  talking  on  important  affairs  and 
asking  his  opinion  of  the  resources  of  the  country. 
The  third  time  we  visited  the  Comte  d'Eu  and  the 
Due  de  Saxe,  who  have  each  married  daughters  of  the 
Emperor.  The  former  (Comte  d'Eu)  is  an  old  and 
kind  patron  of  Richard  ;  and  we  were  received  quite 
in  a  friendly  way  by  him,  like  any  other  morning  visit, 


260      Ube  "Komance  of  Isabel  Xa&g  3Burton 

and  we  are  now  in  a  position  to  go  whenever  we 
like  to  the  palace  sans  ceremonie.  None  of  the  other 
English  here  have  the  privilege.  While  we  were  with 
the  Comte  d'Eu  and  his  wife,  their  pet  terrier  came 
and  sat  up  and  begged ;  it  looked  so  ridiculous,  so 
like  a  subject  before  royalty,  that  we  all  roared  with 
laughter.  I  am  reported  to  have  gone  to  Court  with 
a  magnificent  tiara  of  diamonds  (you  remember  my 
crystals  !).  The  Emperor  has  taken  a  great  fancy  to 
Richard,  and  has  put  him  in  communication  with  him, 
and  all  the  Ministers  of  State  here  make  a  great  fuss 
with  him  (Richard). 

"  The  society  in  Rio  is  entirely  Diplomatic.  There 
are  the  Ministers  from  every  Court  in  the  world  with 
their  attaches" 

"Rio  DE  JANEIRO,  June,  1866. 

"  I  have  been  again  to  the  palace  (this  time  to  the 
birthday  drawing-room),  and  to-morrow  am  going  to 
see  the  Empress  in  the  evening.  I  am  very  fond  of 
our  Minister  and  his  wife,  Mr.1  and  Mrs.  Thornton, 
and  I  am  very  proud  of  them;  they  are  people  we 
can  look  up  to. 

"Since  I  wrote  Richard  has  .given  two  lectures 
before  a  room  full  of  people.  The  Emperor  and 
Empress,  Comte  d'Eu,  and  the  Princesse  Imperiale 
were  present ;  we  had  to  receive  them,  and  to  entertain 
them  after  in  the  room  prepared  for  them.  I  have 
seen  them  three  times  since  I  wrote,  and  they  always 

1  Afterwards  the  Right  Hon.  Sir  Edward  Thornton,  H.B.M.  Minister 
at  Washington,  sometime  Ambassador  at  St.  Petersburg,  etc. 


make  us  sit  down  and  talk  to  us  for  some  time.  I 
told  the  Empress  all  about  your  paralysis,  and  how 
anxious  I  was  about  you ;  and  she  is  so  sympathetic 
and  kind,  and  always  asks  what  news  I  have  of  you. 
She  appears  to  take  an  interest  in  me,  and  asks  me 
every  sort  of  question.  Most  of  my  time  in  Rio  has 
been  occupied  in  going  to  dinners." 

"Rio  DE  JANEIRO,  July  8t  1866. 

"  Yes,  I  am  still  covered  with  boils,  and  I  cannot  sit 
or  stand,  walk  or  lie  down,  without  a  moan,  and  I  am 
irritated  and  depressed  beyond  words.  I  do  not  know 
if  my  blood  be  too  poor  or  too  hot,  and  there  is  nobody 
here  to  ask ;  but  Kier  makes  me  drink  porter,  which  I 
can  get  at  Rio.  I  have  a  few  days  well,  and  then  I 
burst  out  in  crops  of  boils  ;  and  if  an  animal  sting  me, 
the  place  festers  directly,  and  after  I  get  well  again  for 
a  few  days.  I  am  very  thin,  and  my  nose  like  a  cut- 
water ;  and  people  who  saw  me  on  my  arrival  from 
England  say  I  look  very  delicate ;  but  I  feel  very  well 
when  I  have  no  boils. 

"  Since  I  wrote  the  flag-ship  has  come  in,  and  I  am 
greatly  distressed  because  I  am  going  to  lose  nearly  the 
only  nice  lady  friend  I  have,  Mrs.  Elliot,  who  was  a 
daughter  of  Sir  John  Plackett,  and  married  Admiral 
Elliot,  the  son  of  Lord  Minto ;  he  has  got  his 
promotion." 

"  Rio  DE  JANEIRO,  July  23,  1866. 

"  I  am  still  here.  Richard  left  me  a  fortnight  ago,  and 
I  am  still  at  the  Patent  work.  You  have  no  idea  how 


262       Ube  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xaop  JBurton 

heartbreaking  it  is  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the 
Ministers.  When  last  I  wrote  to  you,  we  were  in- 
formed that  we  had  obtained  our  concession.  I  was  in 
high  glee  about  it,  and  Richard  went  away  as  jolly  as  a 
sandboy,  only  leaving  me  to  receive  the  papers  ;  and 
no  sooner  was  he  gone  than  I  got  a  letter  to  tell  me 
the  Council  of  State  had  raised  an  objection  to  its  being 
printed,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  remain  in  the 
hotel  at  Rio  at  great  expense,  and  all  alone  to  fight 
the  case  as  best  I  may.  Richard  is  gone  to  look  after 
the  sea-serpent  (but  I  do  not  tell  this,  as  it  might  get 
him  into  a  row  with  the  F.  O.).  I  forgot  to  tell  you 
there  is  said  to  be  a  sea-serpent  here  one  hundred  and 
sixty  feet  long.  No  English  person  can  have  any  idea 
of  the  way  matters  are  conducted  at  Rio.  I  am  receiv- 
ing the  greatest  kindness  from  the  Emperor,  Empress, 
Comte  d'Eu,  and  the  Imperial  Princess,  and  the 
Ministers,  and  you  would  think  I  should  be  able  to 
get  anything.  They  offer  me  and  promise  me  every- 
thing; but  when  I  accept  it,  and  think  next  day  I  shall 
receive  my  Patent  papers  signed,  there  is  always  some 
little  hitch  that  will  take  a  few  days  more.  I  have 
been  here  seven  weeks  like  this,  and  of  course  have 
no  redress.  On  July  10  the  Meida  went  away,  taking 
the  Elliots,  the  Admiral  and  his  wife.  I  went  out  a 
little  way  with  them  ;  and  it  was  most  affecting  to  see 
the  parting  between  them  and  the  fleet.  The  ships  all 
manned  their  rigging,  cheered,  and  played  *  God  save 
the  Queen '  and  *  I  am  leaving  thee  in  sorrow.'  I 
never  saw  any  one  look  so  distressed  as  the  Admiral ; 
and  Mrs.  Elliot  cried,  and  so  did  I." 


263 

"SAO  PAULO,  August  17,  1866. 

"  On  Saturday,  the  1 1  th,  I  left  Rio,  much  to  my  regret 
for  some  things,  and  to  that  of  the  friends  I  made  there, 
who  wanted  me  to  stay  for  a  ball  on  the  I4th.  How- 
ever, I  knew  Richard's  travels  would  be  finished  about 
that  day,  and  he  would  feel  dull  and  lonely  at  home 
alone,  so  I  thought  bonne  epouse  avant  tout,  and  that  the 
rest  could  take  care  of  itself.  I  sailed  on  the  nth, 
and  was  rewarded,  as  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
of  the  1 2th  poor  Richard  came  off  from  the  coast  in 
a  canoe  in  a  gale  of  wind,  and  the  captain  obliged  me 
by  laying  to  and  taking  him  in.  His  canoe  had  been 
upset,  and  he  was  two  days  in  the  water,  but  not  deep 
water.  We  then  came  home  together.  It  blew  very 
hard,  and  I  was  sick  all  the  way.  I  find  it  very  dull 
here  after  Rio.  It  is  like  farmhouse  life  up  the  country, 
with  no  one  to  speak  to ;  but  I  shall  soon  get 
reconciled,  and  have  plenty  to  do  to  make  the  place 
comfortable  again,  and  resume  my  bourgeoise  life." 

"  SAO  PAULO,  September  2,  1866. 

"To-morrow  a  little  Englishman  and  woman  are  to 
be  married.  Richard  has  to  marry  them.  It  seems 
so  strange.  Fancy  him  doing  parson  !  We  shall  muster 
about  eighty  people,  Brazilian  and  English.  I  shall 
wear  my  poplin,  black  and  white  lace,  and  crystal 
coronet.  People  marry  at  five  in  the  evening,  and 
dance  after,  and  sleep  in  the  house.  Richard  says,  *  I 
won't  say,  "  Let  us  pray."  He  is  going  to  begin 
with,  '  Do  any  of  you  know  any  reason  why  this  man 
and  woman  should  not  be  married  ?  Have  any  of  you 


264      TTbe  iRoinance  of  3sabel  Xafcg  JSurton 

got  anything  to  say  ? '  Then,  shaking  his  finger  at 
them  in  a  threatening  way,  he  is  going  to  plunge  into 
it.  I  know  I  shall  burst  out  laughing." 

"SXo  PAULO,  September  15,  1866. 

<c  I  do  not  think  the  climate  disagrees  with  me.  Of 
course  one  does  not  feel  buoyant  in  great  heat ;  but  it  is 
more  money  affairs  and  local  miseries  that  worry  me, 
and  you  know  we  all  have  them  in  every  latitude.  I 
should  not  feel  justified,  I  think,  in  coming  home  for 
anything  but  serious  illness.  I  have  just  domesticated 
and  tamed  Richard  a  little;  and  it  would  not  do  to  give 
him  an  excuse  for  becoming  a  wandering  vagabond 
again.  He  requires  a  comfortable  and  respectable 
home,  and  a  tight  hand  upon  his  purse-strings ;  and  I 
feel  that  I  have  a  mission  which  amply  fills  my  hands. 
Nobody  knows  all  the  difficulties  in  a  colonial  or  tropical 
home  till  she  has  tried  them — the  difficulty  of  giving 
and  taking,  of  being  charitable  and  sweet-tempered,  and 
yet  being  mistress  with  proper  dignity,  as  here  we  are 
all  on  a  par.  I  often  think  a  parvenue,  or  half-bred 
woman,  would  burst  if  she  had  to  do  as  I  do.  But 
do  not  notice  any  of  this  writing  back. 

"  I  have  had  a  ride  on  my  new  horse  :  a  wretched 
animal  to  look  at ;  but  he  went  like  the  wind  across  the 
country,  which  is  very  wild  and  beautiful.  The  riding 
here  is  very  different  to  English  riding.  If  the  animal 
is  to  walk  or  trot,  he  goes  a  sort  of  ambling  jiggle, 
which  I  think  most  uncomfortable.  You  cannot  rise, 
nor  do  even  a  military  trot,  but  sit  down  in  your  saddle 
like  a  jelly  and  let  him  go.  The  only  other  pace  is  a 


265 

hard  gallop,  which  is  the  best ;  you  go  like  the  wind 
over  prairie  and  valley,  up  and  down  hill,  all  the  same. 
The  horses  here  are  trained  so  that  if  your  animal  puts 
his  foot  in  a  hole  you  shoot  off  over  his  head,  and  he 
turns  head  over  heels,  and  then  stands  up  and  waits  for 
you,  and  never  breaks  his  leg.  In  the  wilds  women 
ride  straddle-leg  like  a  man  ;  but  one  does  not  like  to 
do  it  here.  We  are  a  shade  too  civilized.  We  are 
leading  a  very  regular  life  :  up  at  5  a.m.  and  out  for  a 
walk  ;  I  then  go  to  Mass,  market,  and  home  ;  Richard 
gives  me  a  fencing  lesson  and  Indian  clubs  ;  then  cold 
bath  and  dress  ;  breakfast  at  1 1  a.m.,  and  then  look 
after  my  house ;  practise  singing,  Portuguese,  help 
Richard  with  literature,  dine  at  six  o'clock,  and  to 
bed  at  nine  or  ten. 

"  I  am  at  present  engaged  with  the  F.  O.  Reports  :  I 
have  to  copy  (i)  thirty-two  pages  on  Cotton  Report  ; 
(2)  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  pages  Geographical 
Report ;  (3)  eighty  pages  General  Trade  Report.  This 
for  Lord  Stanley,  so  I  do  it  cheerfully." 

"Rio  DE  JANEIRO,  December  8,  1866. 

"  We  are  nearly  all  down  with  cholera.  I  have  had 
a  very  mild  attack.  Our  Charge  d'affaires  has  nearly 
died  of  it,  and  also  our  Secretary  of  Legation ;  Kier  has 
had  it  also  mildly.  Here  people  cannot  drink  or  be 
indolent  with  impunity.  If  I  did  not  fence,  do  gymnas- 
tics, ride  and  bathe  in  the  sea,  eat  and  drink  but  little, 
attend  to  my  internal  arrangements,  and  occupy  myself 
from  early  till  late,  to  keep  my  mind  free  from  the 
depression  that  comes  upon  us  all  in  these  latitudes, 


266      zrbe  Romance  of  Ssabel  Xaog  JSurton 

especially  those  who  are  not  in  clover  like  us,  I  could 
not  live  for  six  months.  As  it  is,  I  do  not  think  I  have 
lost  anything,  except  one's  skin  darkens  from  the  sun, 
and  one  feels  weak  from  the  heat ;  but  I  could  recover 
in  six  months  in  England. 

"  When  I  got  the  cholera,  it  was  three  in  the  morn- 
ing. I  thought  I  was  dying,  so  I  got  up,  went  to 
my  desk  and  settled  all  my  worldly  affairs,  carried 
my  last  instructions  to  Kier  in  her  bed,  put  on  my 
clothes,  and  went  out  to  confession  and  communion." 

"  Rio  DE  JANEIRO,  December  22,  1866. 

"  I  have  come  down  to  Rio  again  to  try  and  sell  a 
book  of  Richard's,  and  am  still  at  work  about  the  gold 
concession.  Richard  is  travelling  (with  leave)  in  the 
interior.  I  accompanied  Richard  part  of  the  way  on 
his  travels.  We  parted  on  a  little  mountain  with  a 
church  on  the  top — a  most  romantic  spot.  He  started 
with  two  companions,  three  horse-boys,  and  a  long 
string  of  mules.  I  rode  my  black  horse,  and  returned 
alone  with  one  mounted  slave.  We  had  fearful  weather 
all  the  time,  torrents  of  tropical  rain,  thunder  and 
lightning,  and  our  horses  were  often  knee-deep  in  the 
slush  and  mud.  You  cannot  imagine  how  beautiful  the 
forests  are.  The  trees  are  all  interlaced  with  beautiful 
creepers,  things  that  would  be  cultivated  in  a  hot-house, 
and  then  be  a  failure,  and  all  wild,  tangled,  and 
luxuriant,  and  in  a  virgin  forest ;  you  must  force  your 
horse  through  these  to  make  your  way. 

"  You  need  not  be  frightened  about  me  and  my 
riding,  though  every  one  says  I  am  sure  to  be  thrown 


267 

some  day;  but  I  never  ride  a  Rio  Grande  horse  for  that 
reason.  Only  a  man  can  shoot  off  properly  when  they 
turn  head  over  heels.  I  am  getting  very  well  up  in 
all  that  concerns  stables  and  horses,  and  ride  every  day. 
The  other  day  I  went  off  to  ride,  and  I  lost  myself  for 
four  and  a  half  hours  in  a  forest,  and  got  quite  frightened. 
I  met  two  bulls  and  a  large  snake  (cobra) ;  I  rode  away 
from  the  two  former,  and  the  latter  wriggled  away  under 
my  horse's  belly ;  he  was  frightened  at  it.  The  ladies' 
society  here  is  awful ;  they  have  all  risen  out  of  unknown 
depths.  Chico  is  still  with  me,  and  likely  to  be,  as  we 
are  both  very  fond  of  him.  I  have  made  a  smart  lad  of 
him,  and  he  would  make  a  great  sensation  in  London 
as  a  tiger.  He  is  so  proud  of  the  buttons  Rody  sent 
me  for  him,  and  shows  them  to  every  one." 

"SAO  PAULO,  March  10,  1867. 

"  When  Richard  is  away,  it  is  not  always  safe  here. 
For  instance,  last  night  a  drunken  English  sailor,  who 
had  run  away  from  his  ship,  got  into  the  house,  and 
insisted  on  having  a  passport  and  his  papers  made 
out.  I  could  not  persuade  him  that  the  Consul  was 
absent,  and  had  to  give  him  food  and  money  to  get 
him  out.  Still,  if  he  had  used  any  violence,  I  would 
have  gone  down  to  the  lodgers.  At  the  same  time, 
I  never  see  or  hear  of  them  unless  I  wish  it.  Do  not 
mention  about  the  drunken  sailor  writing  back,  as 
Richard  would  say  it  was  my  own  fault,  because  I 
will  not  allow  any  one  to  be  turned  away  from  my 
door  who  is  in  need,  and  so  my  house  is  open  to  all 
the  poor  of  the  neighbourhood,  and  he  scolds  me  for 


268      zrbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

it.     I  sometimes  suffer  for  it,  but  only  one  case  out 
of  twenty. 

"  Brazilians  never  give  charity ;  and  how  can  the 
poor  judge  between  a  true  Catholic  and  a  Brazilian 
one,  if  some  of  us  do  not  act  up  to  our  religion  in 
the  only  way  that  speaks  home  to  them  ?  I  certainly 
felt  rather  frightened  last  night,  as  the  sailor  told  me 
he  was  *  a  damned  scoundrel  and  a  murderer,'  and 
wanted  a  bed  in  the  house ;  but  I  coaxed  him  off 
with  a  milreis,  and  then  barred  the  door." 

"THE  BARRA,  April  13,  1867. 

"  I  write  to  you  from  a  fresh  place.  In  Sao  Paulo 
they  have  been  making  a  new  road,  and  have  enclosed 
a  piece  of  marsh  with  water  five  feet  deep.  The  new 
road  prevents  this  discharging  itself  into  the  river 
beneath,  and  the  enclosed  water  is  stagnant  and  putrid, 
and  causes  a  malaria  in  my  house.  Richard  has  just 
returned — knocked  up  by  six  weeks  in  the  wilds — 
and  he  broke  out  with  fever.  I  felt  affected  and  the 
whole  house  squeamish.  I  rushed  off  with  Richard 
to  the  sea-border,  about  fifty  miles  from  Sao  Paulo. 
Kier  begged  to  be  left.  We  have  got  a  magnificent 
sand-beach,  and  rose-coloured  shells,  and  spacious  bay, 
and  mountain  scenery  all  around  ;  but  we  have  some 
other  disadvantages.  It  would  be  intensely  pleasant  if 
Richard  would  get  better.  One  might  walk  on  the 
beach  in  one's  nightgown  ;  and  we  walked  from  our 
ranco,  or  shed,  to  the  sea,  and  can  bathe  and  walk  as 
we  like.  We  are  in  what  they  dare  to  call  the  hotel. 
It  is  a  shed,  Swiss-shape,  and  as  good  inside  as  a  poor 


269 

cottage  at  home,  with  fare  to  match.  It  is  as  hot  as 
the  lower  regions ;  and  if  one  could  take  off  one's 
flesh  and  sit  in  one's  bones,  one  would  be  too  glad. 
The  very  sea-breeze  dries  you  up,  and  the  vermin 
numbers  about  twenty  species.  The  flies  of  various 
kinds,  mosquitoes,  sand-flies,  and  borruchutes,  are  at  you 
day  and  night ;  and  if  you  jump  up  in  the  night,  it  is 
only  to  squash  beetles.  A  woman  here  had  a  snake 
round  her  leg  yesterday.  Behind  the  house  and  up 
to  the  first  range  of  mountains  is  one  vast  mangrove 
swamp,  full  of  fevers  and  vermin.  I  will  not  sleep  in 
the  beds  about  in  strange  houses  (there  is  so  much 
leprosy  in  the  country),  and  so  I  always  carry  my 
hammock  with  me,  and  sling  it.  Last  night  it  blew 
so  hard  that  Chico  and  I  had  to  get  up  and  nail  all 
the  old  things  they  call  windows.  I  thought  the  old 
shanty  was  going  to  be  carried  away.  I  must  tell  you 
this  is  our  sanatorium  or  fashionable  watering-place 
here. 

"  I  have  had  another  bad  boil  since  I  wrote  to  you. 
We  have  had  a  Brazilian  friend  of  Richard's  lodging 
with  us,  who  kept  saying,  *  If  you  ride  with  that  'boil, 
in  a  few  days  you  will  fall  down  dead '  ;  or,  '  Oh  ! 
don't  leave  that  jigger  in  your  foot  ;  in  a  week  it  will 
have  to  be  cut  off.'  Such  was  his  mania  ;  and  he  used 
to  go  to  bed  all  tied  up  with  towels  and  things  for 
fear  his  ears  should  catch  cold.  He  was  quite  a  young 
man  too ! 

"  You  know  I  have  often  told  you  that  people  here 
think  me  shockingly  independent  because  I  ride  with 
Chico  behind  me.  So  what  do  you  think  I  did  the  other 


270      t£be  IRomance  of  -Jsafcel  Xa&g  JSurton 


day  ?  They  have,  at  last,  something  to  talk  about  now. 
I  rode  out  about  a  league  and  a  half,  where  I  met  four 
fine  geese.  I  must  tell  you  I  have  never  seen  a  goose  ; 
they  do  not  eat  them  here,  but  only  use  them  as  an 
ornamental  bird.  Well,  Chico  and  I  caught  them, 
and  slung  one  at  each  side  of  my  saddle,  and  one  at 
each  side  of  his,  and  rode  with  them  cackling  and 
squawking  all  the  way  through  the  town  ;  and  whenever 
I  met  any  woman  I  thought  would  be  ashamed  of  me, 
I  stopped  and  was  ever  so  civil  to  her.  When  I  got 
up  to  our  house,  Richard,  hearing  the  noise,  ran  out 
on  the  balcony  ;  and  seeing  what  was  the  matter,  he 
laughed  and  shook  his  fist,  and  said,  'Oh,  you  delightful 
blackguard  —  how  like  you  !  '  ' 

Two  months  later  Burton  obtained  leave  of  absence 
from  his  consulate,  and  he  and  his  wife  started  on 
an  expedition  into  the  interior.  This  expedition  was 
the  most  memorable  event  of  Isabel's  life  in  Brazil. 
On  her  return  she  wrote  a  full  account  of  her  adven- 
tures, intending  to  publish  it  later.  She  never  did  so, 
and  we  found  the  manuscript  among  her  papers  after 
her  death.  This  unpublished  manuscript,  revised  and 
condensed,  forms  the  next  three  chapters. 


CHAPTER    VI 

OUR   EXPEDITION  INTO    THE   INTERIOR 
(1867) 

S'il  existe  un  pays  qui  jamais  puisse  se  passer  du  reste  du   monde,  ce 
sera  certainement  la  Province  des  Mines. 

ST.  HILAIRE. 

WE  had  been  in  Brazil  now  nearly  two  years, 
vegetating  between  Santos  and  Sao  Paulo,  with 
an  occasional  trip  to  Rio  de  Janeiro.  Though  Richard 
had  made  several  expeditions  on  his  own  account,  I  had 
never  yet  been  able  to  go  very  far  afield  or  to  see  life 
in  the  wilds.  It  was  therefore  with  no  small  delight 
that  I  received  the  news  that  we  had  a  short  leave 
of  absence,  admitting  of  three  months'  wandering.  The 
hammocks  and  saddle-bags  were  soon  ready,  and  we 
sailed  for  Rio,  which  was  about  two  hundred  miles 
from  our  consulate.  At  Rio  we  received  some  friendly 
hints  concerning  our  tour  from  exalted  quarters,  where 
brain  and  personal  merit  met  with  courtesy,  despite 
official  grade  and  tropical  bile.  We  determined  in 
consequence  to  prospect  the  great  and  wealthy  province 
of  Minas  Geraes,  and  not  to  do  simply  the  beaten 

track,  but  to  go  off  the  roads  and  to  see  what   the 

271 


zya      ftbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Zafcg  JSurton 

province  really  was  like.  We  wanted  to  visit  the  gold- 
mines, and  to  report  concerning  the  new  railway — 
about  the  proper  line  of  which  two  parties  were  con- 
tending— a  question  of  private  or  public  benefit.  We 
also  intended  to  go  down  the  Sao  Francisco  River,  the 
Brazilian  Mississippi,  from  Sabara  to  the  sea,  and  to 
visit  the  Paulo  Affonso  Rapids,  the  Niagara  of  Brazil. 

We  left  Rio  on  June  12,  1867,  and  sailed  from  the 
Prainha  in  a  little  steamer,  which  paddled  across  the 
Bay  of  Rio  in  fine  style,  and  deposited  us  in  about 
two  hours  on  a  rickety  little  wharf  at  the  northern 
end  called  the  Mana  landing-place,  whence  the  well- 
known  financial  firm  of  that  name. 

Whoever  has  not  seen  the  Bay  of  Rio  would  do 
well  to  see  it  before  he  dies ;  it  would  repay  him. 
All  great  travellers  say  that  it  competes  with  the 
Golden  Horn.  It  is  like  a  broad  and  long  lake 
surrounded  by  mountains  and  studded  with  islands  and 
boulders.  But  it  is  absurd  to  try  and  describe  the 
bay  with  the  pen  ;  one  might  paint  it  ;  for  much  of 
its  beauty  (like  a  golden-haired,  blue-eyed  English 
girl  of  the  barley-sugar  description)  lies  in  the  colouring. 

At  the  rickety  landing-place  begins  a  little  railroad, 
which  runs  for  eleven  miles  through  a  mangrove 
and  papyrus  flat  to  the  foot  of  the  Estrella  range  of 
mountains.  Here  we  changed  the  train  for  a  carriage 
drawn  by  four  mules,  and  commenced  a  zigzag  ascent 
up  the  mountains,  which  are  grand.  We  wound  round 
and  round  a  colossal  amphitheatre,  the  shaggy  walls  of 
which  were  clothed  with  a  tropical  forest,  rich  with 
bamboos  and  ferns,  each  zigzag  showing  exquisite 


©ur  Ejpefcition  into  tbe  Anterior          273 

panoramas  of  the  bay  beneath.  The  ascent  occupied 
two  hours  ;  and  at  last,  at  the  height  of  three  thousand 
feet,  we  arrived  at  a  table-land  like  a  tropical  Cha- 
mounix.  Here  was  Petropolis,  where  we  tarried  for 
some  days. 

Petropolis  is  a  pretty,  white,  straggling  settlement, 
chiefly  inhabited  by  Germans.  It  has  two  streets,  with 
a  river  running  between,  across  which  are  many  little 
bridges,  a  church,  a  theatre,  four  or  five  hotels,  the 
Emperor's  palace,  and  villas  dotted  everywhere.  It 
is  the  Imperial  and  Diplomatic  health  resort,  and  the 
people  attached  to  the  Court  and  the  Diplomatic 
Corps  have  snuggeries  scattered  all  about  the  table- 
land of  Petropolis,  and  form  a  pleasant  little  society. 
The  cottages  are  like  Swiss  chalets.  It  is  a  paradise 
of  mountains,  rocks,  cascades,  and  bold  panoramas. 
Here  abounded  the  usual  mysterious  chalet  of  the 
bachelor  attache.  I  will  take  you  up  that  ridgy  path 
and  show  you  a  type  of  the  class  :  four  little  rooms 
strewed  with  guns,  pistols,  foils,  and  fishing-tackle,  a 
hammock,  books,  writing  materials,  pictures  of  lovely 
woman  dressing  or  kissing  a  bird  or  looking  in  the 
glass,  pretty  curtains,  frescoes  on  the  walls  drawn  in 
a  bold  hand  of  sporting  subjects,  enfantillage — and 
other  things  !  This  is  the  chalet  of  the  Vicomte  de 

B ,  attache  to  the  French  Legation,  a  fair  type  of 

the  rest. 

We  left  Petropolis  for  Juiz  de  Fora  at  daybreak 
on  a  fine,  cold  morning  ;  the  grey  mist  was  still  cling- 
ing to  the  mountains.  We  had  a  large  char-a-banc, 
holding  eight,  in  two  and  two,  all  facing  the  horses. 

VOL.    I.  I  8 


274      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

We  took  our  small  bags  with  us,  but  everything 
heavier  had  gone  on  in  the  public  coach.  Our  party, 
besides  Richard  and  myself,  consisted  of  Mr.  Morritt, 
proprietor  of  the  hotel  and  the  char-a-banc,  and  three 
other  Englishmen,  who  with  the  driver  and  my  negret 
Chico  made  up  the  eight.  The  four  mules  were  so 
fresh  that  they  were  with  difficulty  harnessed,  and 
were  held  in  by  four  men.  When  the  horn  sounded, 
they  sprang  on  all  fours  and  started  with  a  rush, 
with  a  runner  at  either  side  for  a  few  yards  till  clear  of 
the  bridge.  We  simply  tore  along  the  mountain-side. 

I  shall  save  a  great  deal  of  trouble  if  I  describe 
the  scenery  wholesale  for  a  hundred  miles  and  specify 
afterwards.  Our  trap  dashed  along  at  pleasant  speed 
through  splendid  amphitheatres  of  wooded  mountains, 
with  broad  rivers  sweeping  down  through  the  valleys, 
with  rapids  here  and  there,  and  boulders  of  rock  and 
waterfalls.  The  drive  was  along  a  first-rate  road, 
winding  over  the  mountain-side.  The  roads  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Parahybuna  River  were  as  high,  as 
beautiful,  and  as  well  wooded  as  the  onf  along  which 
we  drove.  In  all  my  Brazilian  travelling  this  descrip- 
tion of  the  scenery  would  mostly  serve  for  every 
day,  but  here  and  there  we  found  a  special  bit  of 
beauty  or  more  exquisite  peep  between  the  ridges. 
At  first  you  think  your  eyes  will  never  tire  of  admiring 
such  trees  and  such  foliage,  but  at  last  they  hardly 
elicit  an  observation.  A  circumstance  that  created 
a  laugh  against  us  was  that,  like  true  Britishers, 
Richard  and  I  had  our  note-books,  and  we  beset 
poor  Mr.  Morritt  with  five  questions  at  once.  He 


©ur  Erpefcftion  into  tbe  Anterior          275 

was  so  good  and  patient,  and  when  he  had  finished 
with  one  of  us  would  turn  to  the  other  and  say, 
"Well,  and  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 

Our  first  stage  was  the  "Farm  of  Padre  Carrea," 
a  hollow  in  the  hills,  where  we  changed  mules.  We 
drove  for  forty  miles  downhill ;  then  we  had  fifteen 
or  twenty  on  the  level  when  crossing  the  river  valley; 
then  we  ascended  again  for  thirty-nine  miles.  The 
road  was  splendid ;  it  was  made  by  two  French 
engineers.  Our  second  station  was  Pedro  do  Rio. 
The  third  was  Posse,  the  most  important  station  on 
the  road  for  receiving  coffee.  Here  thousands  of  mules 
meet  to  load  and  unload,  rest  and  go  their  ways.  This 
scene  was  very  picturesque. 

After  Posse  we  began  to  see  more  fertile  land,  and 
we  passed  a  mountain  of  granite  which,  if  it  were  in 
England  or  France,  would  have  a  special  excursion 
train  to  it  (here  no  one  thinks  anything  about  it)  ;  it 
looked  like  a  huge  rampart,  and  its  smooth  walls  were 
sun-scorched.  After  this  we  passed  a  region  of  coffee 
plantations,  and  thence  to  Entre  Rios  ("  Betwixt  the 
Rivers "),  the  half-way  house.  It  is  a  very  unhealthy 
station,  and  there  is  a  dreadful  smell  of  bad  water ; 
otherwise  it  would  be  a  first-rate  place  for  any  one 
wanting  to  speculate  in  starting  a  hotel.  The  last 
ten  miles  before  coming  to  Entre  Rios  lay  through 
virgin  forest.  We  saw  tucanos  (birds  with  big  beaks 
and  gorgeous  plumage  of  black,  green,  scarlet,  and 
orange),  wonderful  trees,  orange  groves,  bamboos  (most 
luxuriant;  they  would  grow  on  a  box  if  they  were 
thrown  at  it),  plants  of  every  kind,  coffee  and  sugar- 


276      ttbe  Romance  of  Isabel  Zaog  JSurton 

cane  plantations,  tobacco  plants,  castor-oil  plants, 
acacias,  and  mimosa.  What  invariably  attracts  the 
English  eye,  accustomed  to  laurel  and  holly,  are  the 
trepaderas  ;  and  the  masses  of  bamboo  form  natural 
arches  and  festoons,  and  take  every  fantastic  form. 
We  crossed  the  rivers  over  bridges  of  iron. 

We  breakfasted  at  noon  at  Entre  Rios ;  we  then 
mounted  our  char-a-banc  once  more,  and  drove  on 
eight  miles  to  the  next  station,  called  Serraria,  where 
we  sighted  the  province  of  Minas  Geraes  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley  of  Parahybuna.  At  Serraria  we  got 
a  wicked  mule,  which  nearly  upset  us  three  times.  A 
wicked  mule  is  a  beau-ideal  fiend  ;  the  way  he  tucks 
his  head  under  his  body  and  sends  all  his  legs  out  at 
once,  like  a  spider,  is  wonderful  to  see  ;  and  when  all 
four  mules  do  it,  it  is  like  a  fancy  sketch  in  Punch. 
They  drive  none  but  wild  mules  along  this  road,  and 
after  three  months  they  sell  them,  for  they  become  too 
tame  for  their  work.  Soon  after  this  last  station  we 
passed  through  the  "  Pumpkin "  chain  of  hills.  We 
had  ten  miles  to  go  uphill,  and  it  was  the  hottest  drive 
of  the  day,  not  only  on  account  of  the  time  of  day, 
but  because  we  were  at  the  base  of  another  huge  granite 
mountain,  much  bigger  than  the  last,  like  a  colossal 
church. 

We  were  not  very  tired  when  we  sighted  Juiz  de 
Fora,  considering  that  we  had  driven  nearly  one 
hundred  miles  in  twelve  hours.  We  drove  up  to  a 
chdlet  built  by  the  French  engineers  just  at  sunset, 
and  were  guests  in  an  empty  house,  and  were  well 
lodged.  After  supper  the  moon  was  nearly  full,  and 


©ur  Expedition  into  tbe  Snterior          277 

the  scene  was  lovely.  There  was  a  fine  road ;  nearly 
all  the  buildings  were  on  the  same  side  of  it  as 
our  chalet ;  opposite  us  was  a  chapel,  farther  down 
a  hotel,  and  farther  up,  the  thing  that  made  all  the 
beauty  of  Juiz  de  Fora,  the  house  of  Commendador 
Mariano  Procopio  Ferreira  Lage.  It  appeared  like 
a  castle  on  the  summit  of  a  wooded  mountain.  We 
were  serenaded  by  a  band  of  villagers.  The  evening 
air  was  exquisite,  and  the  moon  made  the  night  as  light 
as  day. 

The  following  day  we  inspected  Juiz  de  Fora.  The 
town  is  a  pretty  situation,  two  thousand  feet  above 
sea-level,  and  the  climate  cool  and  temperate.  The 
wonder  of  the  place  is  the  chateau  of  Commendador 
Mariano  Procopio,  who  is  a  Brazilian  planter  who 
has  travelled,  and  his  wealth  is  the  result  of  his 
energy  and  success.  He  built  this  castle  on  the  top 
of  a  wooded  eminence.  This  land  eight  years  ago 
(I  believe)  was  a  waste  marsh.  He  spent  .£40,000 
on  it,  and  made  a  beautiful  lake,  with  islands,  bridges, 
swans,  and  a  little  boat  paddled  by  negroes  instead 
of  steam.  He  made  mysterious  walks,  bordered  by 
tropical  and  European  plants,  amongst  which  the  most 
striking  to  an  English  eye  were  enormous  arums  with 
leaves  five  feet  long  and  three  broad,  and  acacias,  mimosas, 
umbrella  trees  in  full  flower.  He  also  erected  Chinese- 
looking  arbours,  benches,  and  grotesque  designs  in  wood. 
I  believe  the  man  carries  out  all  his  nightmare  visions 
there.  In  another  part  of  the  grounds  was  a  mena- 
gerie full  of  deer,  momteys,  emu,  silver  and  gold 
pheasants,  and  Brazilian  beasts  and  birds.  He  has 


278      £be  "Romance  of  Ssabel  Xafcp  3Burton 

an  aqueduct  to  his  house  and  fountains  everywhere. 
There  is  an  especially  beautiful  fountain  on  the  highest 
point  of  Juiz  de  Fora,  in  the  centre  of  his  grounds, 
and  from  there  is  a  splendid  view.  There  is  a  white 
cottage  in  his  gardens  for  his  aged  mother.  He  has 
also  an  orangery  of  huge  extent,  different  species  of 
oranges  growing  luxuriantly,  and  we  reclined  on  the  grass 
for  an  hour  picking  and  eating  them.  All  the  land 
around  was  his ;  he  built  the  chapel ;  even  our  chalet 
was  his  property  ;  and  besides  he  has  a  model  farm. 
Altogether  Juiz  de  Fora  appeared  a  thriving  town, 
and  the  Commendador  was  the  pivot  on  which  it 
all  moved.  It  seemed  so  strange  to  find  in  the 
interior  of  Brazil  a  place  like  that  of  an  English 
gentleman.  One  cannot  give  this  generous  and  enter- 
prising planter  enough  praise.  If  there  were  more 
like  him,  Brazil  would  soon  be  properly  exploited. 
Some  object  that  the  arrangement  of  his  place  is 
too  fantastic.  There  is  no  doubt  it  is  fantastic,  but 
it  is  so  because  he  is  giving  the  natives  a  model  of 
everything  on  a  tiny  scale,  and  collecting  in  addition 
his  native  tropical  luxuriance  around  him,  as  an  English 
gentleman  would  delight  to  collect  things  on  his  estate, 
if  he  could  get  the  same  vegetation  to  grow  in 
England. 

On  leaving  Juiz  de  Fora,  I  was  obliged  to  leave 
my  baggage  behind,  which  appeared  to  me  rather 
unreasonable,  as  it  only  consisted  of  the  usual  little 
canisters,  a  pair  of  long,  narrow  boxes  for  the  mule's 
back.  If  the  ladies  who  travel  with  big  baskets  the 
size  of  a  small  cottage  had  seen  my  tiny  bundle  and 


©ur  Ejpefcitfon  into  tbe  Snterfor          279 

a  little  leather  case  just  big  enough  for  brush,  comb, 
and  a  very  small  change,  they  would  have  pitied  me. 
We  mounted  the  coach  on  a  cold,  raw  morning — this 
time  a  public  coach.  Only  one  man  of  our  party 
accompanied  us  on  to  Barbacena ;  the  rest  were 
homeward  bound.  The  two  coaches  stood  side  by 
side,  ready  packed,  facing  different  ways,  at  6  a.m.,  to 
start  at  the  same  moment.  We  had  a  small,  strong 
coach  with  four  mules.  A  handsome,  strapping 
German  youth,  named  Godfrey,  was  our  driver,  and 
we  boasted  a  good  guard.  Inside  was  a  lady  with 
negresses  and  babies,  and  an  Austrian  lieutenant. 
Outside  on  a  dicky  my  negret  and  a  large  number 
of  small  packages — only  such  could  go.  The  driver 
and  guard  were  in  front,  and  above  and  behind  them 
on  the  highest  part  of  the  coach  was  a  seat  for  three, 

which  held    Richard,  Mr.  E ,  and  myself  in  the 

middle,  the  warmest  and  safest  place  in  event  of  a 
spill.  The  partings  ensued  between  the  two  coaches, 
and  the  last  words  were, "  Remember  by  twelve  o'clock 
we  shall  be  a  hundred  miles  apart."  The  horn 
sounded  ;  there  was  the  usual  fling  of  mules'  heads 
and  legs  in  the  air,  and  we  made  the  start  as  if  we 
had  been  shot  out  of  a  gun.  We  proceeded  on  our 
drive  of  sixty-six  miles  in  twelve  hours,  including 
stoppages,  constantly  changing  mules,  for  the  roads 
between  Juiz  de  Fora  and  Barbacena  were  infamous,  and 
all  up  and  down  hill.  The  country  was  very  poor  in 
comparison  with  what  we  had  left  behind,  but  I  should 
have  admired  it  if  I  had  not  seen  the  other.  The  road- 
sides are  adorned  with  quaint  pillars,  mounds  of  yellow 


280      zrbe  Romance  of  3sabel  Xatyt?  JSurton 

clay,  the  palaces  of  the  cupims,  or  white  ants,  which  they 
are  said  to  desert  when  finished.  They  must  be  very 
fond  of  building.  The  sabia  (the  Brazilian  nightingale) 
sang  loud  in  the  waving  tops  of  the  "  roast-fish  tree." 
We  passed  over  wooded  hills,  broad  plains,  and  across 
running  streams  and  small  falls.  At  last  we  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  great  Serra  Mantiqueira.  The  ascent 
was  very  bad  and  steep  for  ten  miles,  and  through  a 
Scotch  mist  and  rain.  All  the  men  had  to  get  down 
and  walk,  and  even  so  we  often  stuck  in  deep  mud- 
holes,  and  appeared  as  if  we  were  going  to  fall  over  on 
one  side.  I  now  comprehended  why  my  baggage  could 
not  come  ;  my  heart  ached  for  the  mules.  Travelling 
on  the  top  of  that  coach  was  a  very  peculiar  sensation. 
When  we  were  on  plain  ground  and  in  full  gallop  we 
heaved  to  and  fro  as  if  in  a  rolling  sea,  and  when  going 
fast  it  was  like  a  perpetual  succession  of  buck-jumping, 
especially  over  the  caldeiroesy  lines  of  mud  like  a 
corduroy  across  the  road.  On  the  descent  our  coach- 
man entertained  us  with  a  history  of  how  he  once  broke 
his  legs  and  the  guard  his  ribs  and  the  whole  coach 
came  to  grief  at  that  particular  spot. 

Our  next  station  (and  it  seemed  so  far)  was  Nas- 
cisuento  Novo ;  then  came  Registro  Velho,  where 
travellers  used  to  be  searched  for  gold  and  diamonds, 
and  amusing  stories  are  told  how  they  used  to  conceal 
them  in  their  food  or  keep  them  in  their  mouths. 
Here  we  had  our  last  change  of  mules,  and  here  the 
Morro  Velho  Company  from  the  mines  halted  for  the 
night,  and  we  found  to  our  delight  that  we  should  find 
a  special  troop  of  them  waiting  at  Barbacena  to  convey 


©ur  jejpefcition  into  tbe  Anterior          281 

us  where  we  liked.  This  was  our  last  league,  and  the 
weather  was  frosty. 

We  arrived  at  the  Barbacena  hotel  when  it  was  dusk, 
and  found  it  a  decent  but  not  luxurious  inn,  kept  by 
an  unfortunate  family  named  Paes.  At  the  door  we 
saw  a  good-humoured  Irish  face,  which  proved  to  be 
that  of  our  master  of  the  horse,  Mr.  James  Fitzpatrick, 
of  the  Morro  Velho  Company,  who  was  awaiting 
Richard  and  myself  with  two  blacks  and  ten  animals. 
We  therefore  asked  for  one  of  the  spare  mules  and 

saddles  for  Mr.  E ,  who  had  decided  to  accompany 

us  to  the  mines.  The  town  appeared  quite  deserted, 
but  I  thought  it  was  because  it  was  dark  and  cold 
and  the  people  were  all  dining  or  supping.  We  were 
tired,  and  went  to  bed  directly  after  dinner. 

Next  day  we  inspected  Barbacena,  a  white  town  upon 
an  eminence.  The  town  is  built  in  the  form  of  a 
cross,  the  arms  being  long.  It  is  three  thousand  eight 
hundred  feet  above  sea-level,  and  is  very  cold  except  in 
the  sun.  There  was  little  to  see  except  four  churches, 
all  poor  and  miserable  except  the  Matriz,  which  was 
the  usual  whitewashed  barn  with  a  few  gaudy  figures. 
It  was  a  dead-alive  kind  of  place,  with  all  the  houses 
shut  up  and  to  be  bought  for  very  little.  All  the  young 
men  were  gone  to  the  war.  There  was  no  one  about : 
no  society,  not  even  a  market;  no  carriage  save  the 
public  coach,  with  its  skeleton  horses  eating  the  grass 
in  the  streets. 

After  dinner  that  evening  we  saw  a  black  corpse 
on  a  stretcher.  The  porters  were  laughing  and 
talking  and  merrily  jolting  it  from  side  to  side, 


282      Ube  Vomance  of  Isabel  Xafcp  3Bucton 

and  I  was  considered  rather  sentimental  for  calling  it 
disrespect  to  the  dead.  Our  table  d'hote  was  a  motley 
and  amusing  group.  There  were  the  driver  and  guard 
of  our  coach,  the  Austrian  lieutenant,  ourselves, 
several  Brazilians,  and  Mr.  Fitzpatrick.  We  all  got 
on  together  very  well.  There  was  some  punch  made  ; 
and  as  the  conversation  turned  upon  mesmerism  for 
that  night's  discussion,  a  delicate  subject,  I  withdrew 
to  a  hard  couch  in  an  inner  room. 

On  Wednesday,  June  19,  we  left  the  last  remnant 
of  civilization  behind  us  at  Barbacena,  and  that 
remnant  was  so  little  it  should  not  be  called  by  that 
name.  We  shall  now  not  see  a  carriage  for  some 
months,  nor  a  road  that  can  be  called  a  road,  but 
must  take  to  the  saddle  and  the  bridle  for  the  country. 

Our  party  consisted  of  Richard  and  myselfj  Mr.  E , 

Mr.  James  Fitzpatrick,  captain  of  our  stud,  Chico, 
my  negret,  mounted,  and  two  slaves  on  foot  as  guides, 
three  cargo  mules,  and  two  spare  animals  as  change. 

Our  first  ride  was  to  be  twenty  miles,  or  five  leagues, 
across  country.  We  did  it  in  five  hours,  and  one 
more  half-hour  we  employed  in  losing  our  way.  The 
country  was  poor,  and  through  what  is  called  campos 
— i.e.  rolling  plains,  with  a  coarse  pasturage.  Near 
dusk  we  reached  Barroso,  a  village  with  a  ranch,  a 
small  chapel,  and  a  few  huts.  The  ranch  was  small 
and  dirty,  and  smelt  of  tropeiros  (muleteers)  and 
mules.  The  ranch  was  a  shed-like  cottage  with  a 
porch  or  verandah.  It  had  one  room  with  a  ceiling 
of  bamboo  matting,  whitewashed  mud  walls,  no 
window,  and  a  mud  floor.  The  only  thing  in  it  was 


©ur  Expedition  into  tbe  Anterior          283 

a  wooden  bedstead  without  a  bed  on  it.  This  was 
ours ;  the  rest  had  to  sleep  in  the  verandah  or  on  the 
floor  with  rugs  amongst  the  tropeiros,  picturesque- 
looking  muleteers.  They  gave  us  rice,  chicken,  and 
beans.  I  prepared  the  food  and  slung  the  hammocks, 
and  after  eating  we  lay  ourselves  down  to  rest. 

We  rose  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  before  it 
was  light,  and  at  4.30  we  were  in  our  saddles  again. 
We  rode  twenty-four  miles.  We  breakfasted  under 
a  hedge  at  a  place  written  "Elvas,"  pronounced 
"  Hervas,"  and  got  a  cup  of  coffee  from  a  neighbouring 
gypsy  camp.  Shortly  after  we  passed  a  ranch,  with  a 
curious  old  arched  bridge  made  of  wood.  To-day's 
journey  was  very  like  yesterday's  in  point  of  country, 
but  we  were  a  little  tired  the  last  few  miles,  as  we 
had  been  somewhat  dilatory,  and  had  been  eight  hours 
in  hard  saddles  on  rough  animals ;  the  sun  also  broke 
out  very  hot.  At  last,  however,  we  were  cheered  by 
arriving  at  a  pretty  village,  and  shortly  afterwards 
sighted  a  beautiful-looking  town  on  a  hill,  with  many 
spires.  We  rode  up  to  the  bridge  to  enter  the  town, 
tired,  hot,  torn,  and  dusty,  just  as  the  procession  of 
the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  passing,  followed  by  the 
friars  and  a  military  band.  We  bent  our  heads  and 
bowed  down  to  the  saddle.  This  was  the  town  of 
Sao  Joao  d'El  Rei,  and  it  was  the  Feast  of  Corpus 
Christi. 

Sao  Joao  d'El  Rei  is  five  thousand  two  hundred  feet 
above  sea-level.  It  was  June  21  (here  the  shortest  as 
in  England  it  is  the  longest  day),  and  the  climate  was 
delicious.  We  met  two  English  faces  in  the  streets, 


284      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Zaog  JSuvton 

and  hailed  them  at  once.  They  proved  to  be  Mr. 
Charles  Copsey,  who  had  been  at  Cambridge  with  my 
husband's  brother,  in  command  of  the  Brazilian  Rifle 
Volunteer  Brigade  (I  knew  many  of  the  same  men), 
and  Dr.  Lee,  a  man  of  Kent.  Dr.  Lee  had  been 
there  thirty-five  years.  These  two  compatriots  were 
most  kind  to  us.  They  introduced  us  to  all  the  best 
families,  and  showed  us  all  the  lions  of  the  place. 

The  churches  of  Sao  Joao  were  so  numerous  that 
we  only  "  did  "  the  three  best.  We  walked  about  the 
principal  streets,  getting  the  best  views  of  the  white, 
spiral,  hilly,  little  city,  which  looked  beautiful  at 
sunset  We  visited  one  Brazilian's  general  collection, 
another's  books,  another's  pictures,  and  the  only  place 
we  did  not  go  to  see  was  the  hospital.  We  loafed 
about,  and  everybody  dined  with  us  at  the  hotel — very 
little  better  than  a  ranch. 

We  left  our  hotel,  or  rather  ranch,  at  10.30  a.m. 
the  next  morning,  and  rode  to  Matosinhos,  the  suburb 
at  the  entrance,  where  we  breakfasted  at  the  house  of 
Dr.  Lee  and  made  the  acquaintance  of  his  Brazilian 
wife,  a  sweet-mannered  woman,  whose  kindness  and 
hospitality  charmed  us.  After  a  sumptuous  breakfast 
we  walked  about  his  grounds,  and  he  gave  us  a  cdo 
de  fela,  an  ugly,  toad-coloured,  long  dog,  with  a  big 
head,  broad  shoulders,  and  lanky  body,  answering  in 
breed  to  our  bull-dog. 

Here  Mr.  Copsey  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to 
part  with  us  so  soon,  and  actually  forsook  his  wife 
and  children  and  cottage  to  accompany  us  for  a  few 
days. 


©ut  Espeoition  into  tbe  Anterior          285 

Our  ride  was  a  pretty  easy  two  leagues,  or  eight 
miles,  over  mountains,  bringing  us  to  a  small  white 
village  or  town,  which  we  should  call  a  village,  nestled 
among  them,  called  Sao  Jose.  This  village  contains  a 
running  brook,  a  bridge,  and  a  handsome  fountain.  Our 
ranch  was  a  miserable  affair,  without  any  pretension  to 
bedding,  and  if  possible  less  to  a  washing-basin ;  so  the 
rest  preferred  sitting  up  all  night  ;  but  as  my  experi- 
ence has  taught  me  to  take  all  the  little  comforts  that 
Providence  throws  to  me,  in  order  to  endure  the  more, 
I  slung  my  hammock  and  slept  the  sleep  of  good 
conscience,  in  spite  of  the  clinking  of  glasses  and 
twanging  of  guitars. 

We  intended  to  leave  Sao  Jose  at  one  o'clock  a.m., 
but  those  who  foolishly  sat  up  had  all  sorts  of  mishaps. 
There  had  been  a  little  too  much  conviviality ;  the 
animals  had  strayed ;  so,  though  we  started  before  light, 
it  was  much  later  than  we  intended.  Our  road  was  a 
terrible  one  ;  we  could  not  keep  together,  and  got  lost 
in  parties  of  two  and  three.  At  first  the  road  was  very 
pretty,  through  woods  ;  but  as  dawn  appeared  we  had  to 
climb  a  wall  of  steep  rock,  terrible  to  climb  and  worse 
to  descend.  Two  of  our  party  unwillingly  vacated 

their  saddles  before  we  got  clear  of  it,  and  Mr.  E 's 

saddle  slipped  off  behind  from  the  steepness  and  bad 
girths.  We  then  had  a  long  ride  over  campos,  and 
stopped  to  breakfast  at  a  deserted  ranch.  We  were 
then  supposed  to  be  about  twelve  miles  from  our 
destination,  Lagoa  Dourada.  The  rest  of  our  day  was 
full  of  misfortunes.  The  valiant  people  who  would 
dance  and  drink  all  night  dropped  asleep  upon  the 


286      Tibe  IRomancc  of  Isabel  Xafcs  JSurton 


road.  We  lost  our  way  for  six  miles,  and  had  to  ride 
back  and  take  another  track.  Our  black  guides  had 
not  laid  a  branch  across  the  road  for  us.  (It  is  an 
African  custom  to  place  a  twig  or  branch  on  the  road, 
to  convey  any  intelligence  to  those  who  are  coming 
after  you.)  We  came  to  a  Slough  of  Despond,  a  mud- 
hole  across  the  road,  which  looked  only  a  little  wet 
and  dirty,  but  a  mule  or  rider  may  be  engulfed  in  it. 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  luckily  preceded  me,  and  fell  into  it. 
My  mule  jumped  it,  and  in  the  jump  my  pistol  fell  out 
of  my  belt  into  it,  and  was  never  seen  more.  We  had 
a  very  hard  day  of  it  up  and  down  hill  through  virgin 
forest  with  several  of  these  swamps.  At  sunset  we 
arrived  very  tired  at  the  top  of  a  hill,  and  found  an 
aboriginal-looking  settlement  of  huts.  We  then  de- 
scended into  the  valley  by  a  steep,  winding  road  for 
some  distance,  and  came  to  a  long,  straggling,  hilly, 
but  pretty  and  more  civilized  village,  with  a  few 
churches  and  a  running  brook,  with  a  decent  ranch  at 
its  extreme  end,  where  there  was  a  party  of  English 
engineers,  who  kindly  attended  to  our  creature  comforts 
while  at  Lagoa  Dourada. 

It  was  Sunday,  the  Eve  of  St.  John,  and  there  were 
big  bonfires  and  a  village  band.  Our  ranch  was  a 
cottage.  The  brook  with  the  gold-washings  ran  by 
it,  and  the  purling  thereof  made  pleasant  music  that 
night. 

The  great  object  of  our  visit  to  Lagoa  Dourada 
was  to  see  with  disinterested  eyes  which  course  the 
continuation  of  the  Dom  Pedro  Segunda  Railway 
should  run  through  Minas  —  that  is,  to  see  which  course 


©ut  Eipe&ftion  into  tbe  Anterior          287 

would  be  for  the  greatest  public  advantage,  regard- 
less of  private  intrigue.  The  English  engineers  and 
Richard  having  quite  agreed  upon  the  subject,  they 
kindly  invited  us  to  celebrate  the  Feast  of  St.  John 
by  assisting  to  "lay  the  first  chain."  It  was  a  day 
likely  to  be  remembered  by  the  Brazilians,  for  it 
connoted  their  pet  feast — the  t{  Feast  of  Fire  " — and 
the  commencement  of  a  work  to  be  of  great  benefit 
to  them. 

At  twelve  o'clock  (noon)  the  next  day  the  English 
engineers,  with  a  party  comprising  all  the  Brazilian 
swells  of  Lagoa  Dourada,  proceeded  to  a  valley  within 
the  village  to  lay  the  first  chain  for  the  exploration 
of  the  mountains  which  divide  the  watershed  of  the 
Rio  Sao  Francisco  and  the  Paraopeba  from  the 
Carandahy  and  Rio  Grande,  for  the  prolongation  of 
the  Dom  Pedro  Segunda  Railway. 

I  had  the  honour  of  giving  the  first  blow  to 
the  stake  and  breaking  a  bottle  of  wine  over  it. 
The  sights  taken  were  S.  73°  W.  and  N.  74°  W.  The 
engineers  made  me  write  this  in  their  books.  (The 
following  day  all  were  to  break  up,  our  party  of 
engineers  bound  northward,  and  ourselves  on  our 
march.)  The  inauguration  passed  off  very  favourably. 
It  was  a  beautiful  day.  The  village  band  played, 
flags  were  flying,  wine  was  produced,  glasses  clinked, 
and  we  drank  the  health  of  <{  The  Emperor,"  "  The 
Queen,"  "Brazil,"  "England,"  "Unity,"  "Future 
Railway,"  and  most  of  the  principal  people  present ; 
speeches  were  made,  and  vivas  shouted,  and  last  the 
Brazilians  proposed  the  health  of  St.  John  with  vivas. 


288      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

When  these  ceremonies  were  over,  we  marched  back 
to  the  ranch  with  the  band  playing  and  colours  flying. 

In  the  afternoon  we  walked  a  little  way  up  and  down 
the  stream,  and  saw  some  gold- washing  on  ajhomoeo- 
pathic  scale.  The  land  belongs  to  a  Brazilian,  who 
gets  three  or  four  milreis  a  day  out  of  it  (about 
eight  shillings).  We  then  sat  down  in  the  village 
on  benches  in  the  shade.  The  men  drank  beer  and 
smoked  cigarettes,  and  I  took  my  needlework  and 
talked  with  them. 

In  the  evening  the  English  engineers  gave  us  a 
big  dinner  in  the  ranch,  and  how  they  managed  to 
do  it  so  well  I  cannot  imagine.  It  was  like  a  big 
picnic.  The  village  padre  sat  at  the  head  of  the  long 
wooden  table,  and  I  at  the  bottom,  and  on  wooden 
benches  at  each  side  were  eight  Englishmen  and  seven- 
teen Brazilian  local  magnates.  We  had  chickens, 
messes  of  rice  and  meat,  feijao  (beans)  and  farinha 
(flour),  bread,  cheese,  beer,  port,  and  other  drinks — 
all  out  of  the  engineers'  stores.  It  was  great  fun. 
Directly  after  dinner  they  began  speechifying,  and  each 
man  ended  his  speech  with  a  little  nasal  stanza  to 
friendship,  the  audience  taking  up  the  last  word.  At 
last  somebody  drank  the  health  of  the  married  men, 
and  then  some  one  else  proposed  the  health  of  the 
single,  and  then  every  one  began  to  quarrel  as  to  which 
was  the  better  and  happier  state.  Richard  and  Mr. 
Copsey  loudly  stood  up  for  the  single,  and  urged 
them  on  to  greater  frenzy,  and  I  would  have  done 
the  same  thing  only  I  was  afraid  of  shocking  the 
padre.  The  wordy  war  lasted  fully  half  an  hour, 


©ut  Expedition  into  tbe  Anterior          289 

and  terribly  distressed  one  spoony  Englishman,  who 
gave  us  a  homily  from  his  corner  on  the  sanctity  of 
the  married  state.  If  it  had  been  in  France,  there 
would  have  been  half-a-dozen  duels,  and  I  fully  ex- 
pected to  see  some  kniving ;  but  with  them  it  was 
only  hilarity  and  good  spirits,  and  they  embraced 
across  the  table  at  the  very  moment  I  thought  they 
were  going  to  hit  one  another.  We  finished  up  by 
repairing  to  our  room  and  having  some  punch  there, 
and  we  all  parted  happy  and  pleased  with  our  day. 
After  we  were  in  bed  we  were  serenaded  by  the  band. 
The  people  walked  about  with  music,  and  twanged 
their  guitars  all  night.  It  is  a  great  day  for  marriage 
— for  lovers,  and  all  that  sort  of  pleasant  thing.  The 
girls  dress  in  their  best,  and  put  the  flowers  of  Sao 
Joao  in  their  hair,  and  one  likes  to  see  the  young 
people  happy.  A  pleasant  remembrance  of  this  place 
lingers  with  me  yet. 

The  next  morning  we  proposed  starting  at  four 
o'clock,  and  got  up  early.  Our  white  horse,  however, 
knew  the  ground,  and  strayed  six  miles  away,  so  we 
could  not  start  till  9  a.m.  Moreover,  Mr.  Copsey, 
who  was  on  duty  at  Sao  Joao  d'El  Rei  for  next  day, 
was  obliged  to  wish  us  good-bye  and  return. 

When  at  last  we  started,  we  rode  for  two  leagues 
and  a  halfj  accompanied  by  several  of  our  friends  of 
the  evening  before,  and  at  last  came  to  a  brook,  where 
we  sat  under  the  shade  of  a  tree  and  breakfasted,  after 
which  our  friends  wished  us  good-bye  and  returned. 
We  then  rode  on,  uncertain  as  to  our  course.  The 
scenery  was  pretty  ;  the  weather  was  very  hot.  We 

VOL.  r.  19 


29o      tTbe  IRomancc  of  Isabel  Xafcs  Burton 

had  no  road,  but  found  our  way  over  the  hills  through 
bits  of  forest,  and  towards  evening  we  came  to  a 
village  called  Camapoao. 

We  had  been  detained  by  bad  road  and  accidents, 

and  had  been  five  hours  doing  only  fifteen  miles ;  so, 

though  we  could  only  find   an    infamous  ranch   (the 

worst  we  had  ever  seen),  we  thought  it  best  to  risk 

it  for  the  night.     We  had  been  obliged  to  pass  one 

by,  as  it  looked  really  dangerous  with  damp,  filth,  and 

reptiles.     The  owner  of  the  ranch,  one  Jose  Antonio 

d'Azevedo,  was  a  character,   and   a   very    bad   one — 

original     in    rudeness,    independence,    and    suspicion. 

There  was  not  a  basin  or  any  kind  of  cooking-pot, 

nor  a  fire  nor  hot  water.     There  was,  however,  one 

bed  (Jose's),    and  no   amount  of  entreaty  to  let  me 

rest  my  aching  limbs  on  it  would  induce  him  to  allow 

me  to  do  so.     I  had  almost  to  go  on  my  knees  to  be 

allowed  to  swing  my  hammock,  lest  I  should  spoil  his 

mud-and-stick  walls  ;  but  after  a  glass  of  cognac  from 

our  stock   and   much   flattering  and  coaxing,  he   did 

permit   that,  and   gave  us  some  beans  and  flour,  rice 

and  onions,  to  eat.     Richard  slept  on  a  wooden  table, 

I  in   the   hammock,  and  the  rest  of  our  party   with 

the   mules   on    the   ground   round   a   fire.     It   was  a 

bitterly   cold   night,   and  we  got  full  of  vermin.     At 

about  one  in  the  morning  I  was  aroused    by  a  loud 

whispering,  apparently   close  to  my  head,  and  a  low 

growl  from   my   dog   underneath  my   hammock,  and 

I  could  distinctly  hear  the  old  man  say,  "  Pode  facil- 

mente  matar  a  todas  "  ("  It  would  be  very  easy  to  kill 

the   whole  lot ").     I   felt   quite   cold  and  weak  with 


©ur  Espefcitfon  into  tbe  Sntenor          291 

fright;  but  I  stretched  out  my  hand  in  the  dark  to 
where  I  knew  my  weapons  were,  and  got  hold  of  a 
bowie-knife  and  loaded  revolver.  I  then  whispered 
to  Richard,  and  we  got  some  matches  and  struck  a 
light.  There  was  no  one  in  the  room,  and  the 
whispering  and  laughing  still  went  on  as  if  the  old 
man  and  his  negroes  were  conversing  and  joking 
behind  the  thin  partition  wall.  Nothing  occurred. 
In  the  morning  we  thought  he  was  only  alluding  to 
his  chickens  ;  yet,  as  we  learnt  afterwards,  he  did  bear 
an  ugly  name. 

We  were  very  glad  to  get  up  at  4  a.m.,  though 
pitch  dark,  and  to  set  out.  The  old  man  did  his 
best  to  keep  us  by  talking  of  the  atoleiros  on  the  road, 
which  we  must  pass,  and  were  sure  to  fall  into.  And 
indeed  an  atoleiro  is  an  ugly  thing ;  for  you  only 
expect  a  passage  of  wet  mud  in  the  road,  whereas  you 
and  your  horse  go  plump  in  over  head,  and  sometimes 
do  not  get  out.  We  passed  a  fearful  one  a  mile  past 
his  house,  but  sent  the  blacks  on  first,  and  they 
brought  us  a  long  round  through  brushwood,  which 
was  not  dangerous,  but  unpleasant  to  fight  through  ; 
and  Chico  stuck  in  it,  and  we  were  fully  ten  minutes 
extricating  him.  We  then  rode  up  and  down  moun- 
tains and  waded  several  rivers,  and  moonlight  passed 
away,  and  dawn  came  with  a  welcome.  By  nine 
o'clock  we  had  accomplished  twelve  miles,  and  arrived 
at  Suasuhy,  a  long,  big  village,  with  a  church  and  about 
three  hundred  houses  and  fifteen  hundred  inhabitants. 
We  were  quite  overcome  with  the  luxury  of  being 
able  to  wash  our  hands  and  faces  in  a  basin.  We 


29*      tTbe  "Romance  of  3sabel  Xaog  JBurton 

had  too  a  better  breakfast  than  usual.  The  ranch 
was  kept  by  a  handsome  family — father,  mother,  and 
four  daughters.  After  this  we  rode  on  again  through 
beautiful  scenery  up  and  down  mountains,  through 
shallow  rivers  and  bits  of  virgin  forest.  Yet,  though 
the  scenery  is  magnificent,  it  is  so  alike,  that  one 
description  describes  all,  and  what  you  see  to-day 
you  will  to-morrow  and  for  the  next  three  months, 
with  the  exception  of  every  here  and  there  a  startling 
feature.  After  another  three  leagues  we  sighted  the 
Serra  d'Ouro  Branco,  a  grand  pile  of  rock,  and 
presently  caught  sight  of  a  convent  and  a  large  square 
and  church  seated  on  an  eminence  below  the  mountain. 
We  were  descending.  We  turned  a  corner  down  a 
steep,  stone  hill,  and  beheld  a  beautiful  white  village  in 
the  valley,  and  silvery,  winding  river,  called  Maronhao, 
running  through  it,  and  another  smaller  one  dis- 
charging itself  into  the  larger.  A  striking  church, 
the  Matriz,  rose  on  the  opposite  hill.  In  the  distance 
were  the  two  Serras,  straight  ranges  like  a  wall,  one 
shorter  than  the  other.  Ouro  Branco  is  so  called 
because  the  gold  found  there  was  mixed  with  platina. 
It  was  three  o'clock,  and  we  had  now  travelled  six 
leagues  and  a  half,  and  were  glad  to  rest.  The  sunset 
was  lovely. 

This  village  was  Congonhas  do  Campo.  We  got 
into  a  comfortable  ranch,  and  then  called  on  the  padre. 
That  is  the  best  thing  to  do  at  these  places,  as  he 
is  the  man  who  shows  you  hospitality,  points  out 
the  lions,  and  introduces  you  and  gives  you  all  the 
information  you  want.  The  padre  showed  us  great 


Ejpefcition  into  tbe  Anterior          293 

kindness,  and  took  us  to  see  the  college  and  the  church, 
the  most  striking  part  of  the  village  and  valley.  Walk- 
ing through  the  streets,  we  saw  the  arms  of  some 
noble  Portuguese  family,  well  carved  in  stone,  over 
a  small  deserted  house — doubtless  the  arms  of  some 
of  the  first  colonists. 

The  padre  breakfasted  with  us  at  the  ranch  next 
morning,  and  saw  us  set  out  from  Congonhas  at  twelve 
o'clock.  We  rode  three  leagues,  or  twelve  miles,  which 
seemed  more  like  five,  up  and  down  mountains,  through 
rivers  and  virgin  forests,  and  on  ridges  running  round 
steep  precipices  and  mountain-sides  for  many  a  mile. 
On  our  way  we  met  a  small  white  dog  with  a  black 

ear,  looking  wet  and  tired  and  ownerless.  Mr.  E 

hit  at  it  with  a  hunting-whip  ;  it  did  not  cry  nor  move, 
but  stared  at  our  passing  troop.  Towards  night  we 
arrived  at  a  little  sort  of  private  family  settlement, 
consisting  of  four  or  five  ranches  belonging  to  a  man 
of  the  same  name  as  the  place — to  wit,  Teixeira.  Here 
we  found  the  villagers  in  a  great  state  of  excitement, 
armed  with  guns  to  kill  a  mad  dog,  which  had  been 
rabid  for  some  days,  and  had  bitten  everything  it 
saw,  communicating  the  disease,  and  had  after  all 
escaped  them.  He  was  a  small  white  dog  with  a 
black  ear ! 

We  had  great  difficulty  in  finding  a  night's  rest 
at  Teixeira.  Four  or  five  houses  would  not  take  us 
in.  One  man  was  especially  surly  ;  but  at  last  a  cobbler 
and  his  wife  took  us  in,  and  were  kind  and  hospitable 
to  us.  Here  I  had  a  little  bed  of  sticks  and  straw, 
and  slept  soundly. 


294      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  %aos  JSurton 

Next  morning  we  had  a  shot  at  a  flock  of  small 
green  parrots  before  starting  for  Coche  d'Agua  at 
8.30,  and  we  rode  till  10.30.  We  crossed  the  Rio 
da  Plata  six  times  (it  was  so  tortuous)  before  nine 
o'clock,  and  twice  the  Bassao  later.  After  crossing 
the  Bassao  the  second  time,  we  sat  under  a  shady 
tree  on  its  banks,  and  ate  our  breakfast  out  of  our 
provision  basket — cold  pork,  onions,  and  biscuit,  and 
drank  from  the  river. 

We  had  been  told  that  the  remainder  of  our  ride 
to  Coche  d'Agua  from  this  spot  was  four  leagues ; 
but  it  was  nearer  eight  leagues  (thirty-two  miles),  and 
we  arrived  after  dusk  at  6.15.  It  was  a  very  poor 
place ;  there  was  nothing  to  eat,  and  no  beds,  and 
we  were  dead  tired. 

The  people  were  kind,  and  lit  an  enormous  fire 
in  the  centre  of  the  ranch,  and  let  me  lie  down  upon 
their  sleeping-place  till  3  a.m.,  "  because  I  was  a 
Catholic  and  spoke  Portuguese."  It  was  a  slab  of 
wood  with  a  straw  sacking,  and  even  so  I  thought 
it  a  great  luxury.  We  rose  next  morning  at  3.30. 
The  mules  were  called  in,  and  we  rode  four  leagues, 
first  by  moonlight  and  then  dawn.  We  passed  through 
two  valleys,  and  arrived  at  8.45  a.m.  at  another 
settlement.  This  was  the  village  outside  of  the  Morro 
Velho  colony,  and  as  the  bells  rang  nine  we  alighted 
at  the  entrance  of  the  Casa  Grande,  and  were  most 
cordially  and  hospitably  received  by  the  Superintendent 
of  the  Sao  Joao  d'El  Rei  Mining  Company  and  Mrs. 
Gordon,  and  conducted  into  their  most  comfortable 
English  home. 


CHAPTER  VII 

MORRO   VELHO  AND  ITS  ENVIRONS 
(1867) 

Earth's  crammed  with  heaven, 
And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God ; 
But  only  he  who  sees  takes  off  his  shoes; 
The  rest  sit  round  it,  and  pick  blackberries. 

ELIZABETH  BARRETT  BROWNING. 

MORRO  VELHO,  where  is  the  queen  of  the 
Minas  Geraes  Mines,  is  a  very  curious  and 
interesting  place,  unlike  any  other  I  have  seen  in 
Brazil.  It  has  a  good  deal  of  bustle,  life,  and  cheer- 
fulness about  it  which  one  scarcely  sees  elsewhere.  It 
is  an  extensive,  elevated  valley,  surrounded  by  mountains 
and  divided  into  districts  or  settlements,  each  con- 
sisting of  villages  made  up  of  detached  cottages  without 
streets,  after  the  manner  of  most  villages  in  Minas 
Geraes.  CongOnhas  must  be  excepted,  as  that  is  a 
regular  village  with  shops  ;  we  passed  through  it  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  gold-mining  colony  ;  although 
it  is  independent  of,  still  it  is  supported  by,  its  wealthy 
neighbour. 

Mr.  Gordon,  the  English  superintendent  of  the  mines, 

was   like  a  local  king   at  Morro  Velho  and  all  over 

295 


296      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  Burton 

the  province.  He  was  consulted  and  petitioned  by 
every  one,  beloved,  respected,  and  depended  upon  ;  in 
short,  a  universal  father  ;  and  well  he  deserved  respect. 

The  first  Sunday  we  were  with  the  Gordons  at  Casa 
Grande  we  witnessed  the  slave  muster  ;  and  when  it 
was  over  the  slaves  gave  us  an  Indian  representation 
of  a  sham  palaver,  war-dance,  and  fight.  They  were 
dressed  in  war-paint  and  feathers.  The  King  and  his 
son  were  enthroned  on  chairs,  and  the  courtiers  came 
and  seated  themselves  around  on  the  grass,  and  the 
attendants  carried  umbrellas.  First  there  was  a  council. 
The  King  was  dissatisfied  with  his  Minister  of  War, 
who  was  seized  and  brought  before  him.  Then  the 
Minister  made  a  speech  in  his  own  praise.  Then  there 
was  a  fight,  in  which  the  Captain  of  War  took  every 
one  prisoner,  and  gave  the  swords  to  the  King.  Then 
the  Minister  was  poisoned  by  the  enemy,  but  cured  by 
a  nut  which  the  King  gave  him.  Then  all  the  captives 
crawled  on  the  ground  like  snakes  to  the  King's  feet 
to  do  him  homage.  The  King's  jesters  were  great 
fun.  They  had  a  gong  and  bells  and  tom-tom,  and 
sang  and  danced  at  the  same  time.  They  danced  a 
curious  step — little  steps  in  which  they  adhered  to  a 
peculiar  time. 

On  Wednesday,  July  10,  we  left  Morro  Velho  for 
a  space  in  light  marching  order.  Mr.  Gordon  wished 
Richard  to  inspect  a  seam  of  ore  of  disputed  substance, 
and  he  organized  a  trip  for  us  to  the  place.  It  was 
to  last  eleven  days,  and  we  were  then  to  return  to 
Morro  Velho.  We  set  out  from  the  Casa  Grande  at 
8.15.  Our  road  was  very  bad,  chiefly  over  moun- 


/iDorro  IPelbo  anfc  Its  Environs  297 

tains  and  through  rivers,  but  incessantly  up  and  down, 
without  any  repose  of  level  ground. 

We  rode  for  more  than  four  hours,  and  then  stopped 
at  a  village  called  Morro  Vermelho,  where  we  stopped 
an  hour  for  breakfast  and  to  change  animals. 

Our  road  after  this,  till  six  o'clock  in  the  evening, 
lay  through  the  most  exquisite  forests,  but  with  terrible 
footing  for  the  mules — thick,  pudding-like,  wet  mud,  and 
loose,  slippery  stones,  corduroys  of  hard  mud  striping 
some  of  the  most  difficult  places,  where  only  a  sure- 
footed mule  can  tread.  We  stopped,  in  passing,  at  the 
house  of  a  Mr.  Brockenshaw,  an  English  miner.  It  was 
a  tumbledown  ranch,  but  in  the  wildest,  most  desolate, 
and  most  beautiful  spot  imaginable.  The  chief  features 
of  the  scenery  were  mountain-peaks,  virgin  forests,  and 
rivers.  And  oh  the  foliage  of  the  forest !  The  immense 
avenues  of  leafage  looked  like  mysterious  labyrinths, 
with  castles  and  arches  of  ferns  forty  feet  high.  We 
crossed  an  awful  serra  all  in  ruts,  and  full  of  scarped 
rock,  mud-holes,  or  atoleiros  ;  the  highest  point  was  four 
thousand  two  hundred  feet.  Just  as  we  were  at  the 

worst  of  our  difficulties,  and  Mr.  E had  broken 

his  crupper,  we  heard  a  cheery  English  voice  shouting 
behind  us,  C'O!  da  casa?"  ("Any  one  at  home?"), 
which  is  what  people  say  in  Brazil  when  they  enter 
a  house  apparently  empty  and  want  to  make  some- 
body hear  at  the  back.  Turning,  we  beheld  a  Scotch 
gentleman  with  a  merry  face  and  snow-white  hair, 
and  a  beard  like  floss  silk  down  to  his  waist.  The 
Brazilians  call  him  "  O  Padre  Eterno,"  as  he  is  like 
the  picture  of  God  the  Father.  He  was  Mr.  Brown, 


298      ttbe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcg  JSurton 

Superintendent  of  the  Cuiaba  Mine.  After  cordial 
greetings  he  joined  our  party. 

We  eventually  arrived  at  Congo  Soco,  the  original 
peat-mining  village,  once  gay  and  rich,  now  worked  out, 
abandoned,  and  poor.  The  river  of  the  same  name  runs 
through  it.  It  was  now  a  little  before  five  o'clock,  and 
we  came  to  a  better  track,  and  rode  on  some  miles 
farther  to  the  house  and  iron  foundry  of  Senhor  Antonio 
Marcos,  the  Ranger  of  Woods  and  Forests,  who  had 
prepared  hospitality  for  us.  We  dismounted  at  six 
o'clock  very  stiff.  We  had  been  nine  hours  and  a 
quarter  in  the  saddle,  and  had  ridden  thirty-two  miles 
of  difficult  country,  which  did  not,  however,  prevent 
us  from  passing  a  merry  evening  with  Mr.  Brown's 
assistance. 

After  a  good  night,  yet  still  aching  from  the  rough 
road,  we  went  out  early  to  see  the  iron  business.  The 
soil  is  a  mixture  of  iacutinga  (iron  and  charcoal), 
and  the  process,  slow  and  primitive,  is  known  as  the 
"  Catalan  process."  We  saw  the  whole  thing  done 
from  beginning  to  end.  We  left  the  foundry  at  10.15, 
and  went  down  the  watershed  of  the  river  Congo  Soco, 
crossing  it  twice,  and  in  an  hour  and  a  quarter  arrived 
at  Sao  Joao  do  Morro  Grande.  Thence  we  rode  to 
Brumado,  a  decayed  village.  Here  we  stopped  for  an 
hour  in  the  great  house  of  the  Commendador  Joao  Alves 
de  Sousa  Continho,  where  we  changed  animals.  This  was 
once  a  gay  and  high  house  in  great  repute.  It  looked 
now  as  if  withered ;  it  has  fallen  into  decay,  and  is 
inhabited  by  the  old  ex-courtier,  once  a  favourite  of 
the  fir?t  Emperor.  We  proceeded  across  the  ridge  to 


Delbo  anb  its  Environs  299 

the  Santa  Barbara,  or  main  road.  As  we  wound  down 
a  hill,  in  a  somewhat  romantic  spot,  we  espied  descend- 
ing from  the  opposite  height  a  troop  of  people  dressed 
in  black  and  white,  and  my  conventual  eye  at  once 
detected  them  to  be  Sisters  of  Charity.  The  rest  of 
our  party  could  not  make  them  out,  and  were  quite  in 
a  state  of  excitement  at  seeing  these  pilgrims.  We  met 
upon  the  bridge  crossing  the  river.  There  were  eleven 
sisters  and  two  priests,  all  in  religious  habit  and  mounted 
on  poor  hack  mules.  They  were  going  to  form  a  new 
house  at  Dimantina,  there  being  only  one  other  convent 
in  the  interior,  and  that  at  Marianna.  I  recognized 
some  old  friends  amongst  them.  They  presented  a 
very  curious  and  pretty  sight,  as  they  came  round  a 
corner  on  the  mountain-side,  with  their  black  habits 
and  white  bonnets.  After  stopping  and  talking  for  a 
little  while,  we  rode  on,  and  arrived  at  4  p.m.  at  Catas 
Altas,  having  done  twenty  miles  in  five  hours.  Here 
we  called  on  the  padre  and  saw  the  church. 

In  the  evening  the  good  old  padre  came  to  visit  us, 
but  could  not  be  persuaded  to  take  a  glass  of  cham- 
pagne, of  which  we  had  a  bottle  in  the  provision 
basket. 

We  left  Catas  Altas  next  morning  at  6.20,  and 
rode  for  two  miles  till  we  reached  Agua  Quente 
(cc  hot  water  ").  Here  we  had  to  make  divers  arrange- 
ments. We  stayed  there  less  than  an  hour,  and  rode 
on  to  a  place  about  three  hours'  ride  from  Agua 
Quente,  through  forests  and  a  mountain  ascent,  in  a 
heavy  rain. 

We  eventually  arrived  at  a  piece  of  country  that 


300      ttbc  "Romance  of  30abel  Xaog  JSurton 

appeared  like  a  gigantic  basin  with  a  mountain-ridge 
running  nearly  all  round  it.  The  soil  was  lumpy  and 
ferruginous,  and  covered  with  a  coarse,  high  grass,  and 
very  difficult  of  passage.  At  the  top  of  this  ridge  we 
had  to  ride  till  we  came  successively  to  two  places  with 
small  mountain  torrents,  which  had  sliced  through  the 
rock,  and  the  bits  that  were  broken  away  were  like 
cakes  of  coal.  There  we  had  to  sit  and  breakfast, 
while  Richard  went  to  examine  this  curious  coal  forma- 
tion, which  it  was  supposed  might  some  day  be  valuable. 
This  operation  over,  we  mounted  again,  and  at  about 
one  o'clock  arrived  at  a  little  ranch  called  Moreira. 
We  had  left  one  change  of  mules  and  horses  to  follow 
us,  and  we  missed  them  terribly,  as  we  had  to  ride 
the  same  wretched  animals  all  day. 

Then  Mr.  Gordon,  who  had  accompanied  us  thus 
far,  wished  us  good-bye  for  a  few  days,  as  his  business 
took  him  another  way,  and  we  rode  through  pretty 
woods  to  Inficionado  ("  Infected  "),  twenty-four  miles 
in  all,  and  reached  it  at  3.30.  It  is  a  long  village,  with 
several  ranches  and  a  few  churches,  very  pretty,  but 
remarkable  for  its  number  of  idiots  and  deformities. 

It  was  pleasant  after  the  day's  fatigues  to  sit  by  a 
running  brook  opposite  the  ranch.  The  sun  was  not 
quite  set  yet ;  the  almost  full  moon  was  visible. 

Richard  and  Mr.  E were  sitting  by  the  ranch 

door,  and  herds  of  mules  were  picketed  in  front.  It 
was  a  most  picturesque  scene. 

We  left  Inficionado  next  morning  at  9.30,  and  rode 
along  a  bad  road,  which  reminded  me  of  the  common 
pictures  of  Napoleon  on  an  impossible  horse  crossing 


IDelbo  anfc  its  Environs  301 

the  Alps.  We  reached  a  ranch  called  Camargos  at 
12.15.  To-day  we  ate  while  riding,  and  did  not  stop; 
the  ride  was  hot  and  steep.  We  never  drew  rein  till 
we  reached  Sant'  Anna,  where  we  expected  friends  to 
take  us  in.  We  had  fortunately  sent  on  a  black 
messenger  with  our  letters  of  introduction,  and  to 
apprise  them  of  our  coming  ;  and  he  ran  to  meet  us 
a  few  hundred  yards  before  we  reached  the  house,  and 
told  us  that  the  owner,  Captain  Treloar,  superintendent 
of  these  mines,  could  not  receive  us,  as  his  wife 
was  dying.  Much  grieved  and  shocked,  we  returned 
to  a  neighbouring  vendha  for  a  few  minutes  to  write 
a  note  of  sympathy  and  apology  for  our  untimely 
intrusion,  and  also  to  consult  as  to  what  we  had 
better  do  with  ourselves,  since  we  had  "  counted  our 
chickens"  prematurely,  certain  of  the  never-failing 
hospitality  of  our  compatriots,  and  had  given  away 
all  our  provisions.  Now  we  were  thrown  on  the  wide 
world  without  so  much  as  a  biscuit.  We  soon  decided 
to  prospect  the  place  we  were  in,  and  then  ride  to 
Marianna,  where  we  had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  a 
Dr.  Mockett.  Sant'  Anna  looked  a  desolate,  dead- 
alive  place,  and  consisted  of  the  Casa  Grande,  or 
Superintendent's  house,  a  chapel  on  the  hill,  a  big 
universal  kitchen,  and  a  hospital.  These  were  the 
only  four  large  buildings;  but  there  were  plenty  of 
small  white  cottages,  which  looked  like  dots  on  the 
hill,  for  the  English,  and  for  the  black  settlers  a  line 
of  huts.  The  valley,  which  was  pretty,  was  occupied  by 
the  houses,  which  appeared  small  after  Morro  Velho. 
When  we  returned  to  our  vendha,  we  found  waiting 


302      Ube  IRomancc  of  Isabel  ZafcB  JSurton 

for  us  Mr.  Symmonds,  son-in-law  of  Captain  Treloar 
who  insisted  on  our  going  to-morrow  to  his  house. 
He  said  it  was  empty,  all  the  family  being  together 
at  Sant'  Anna  during  their  affliction ;  but  as  he 
kindly  remarked  we  should  be  more  comfortable 
there,  we  agreed,  and  mounted  and  rode  with  him 
along  a  pleasant,  sandy  road — not  track — for  two 
miles  or  more,  till  we  passed  a  pretty  villa  in  the 
centre  of  some  wild-looking  mountains.  There  lived 
Captain  Treloar  and  his  wife  with  a  large  family 
of  nine  daughters,  six  of  whom  were  married,  and 
three  sons.  All  the  men  of  the  family,  sons  and 
sons-in-law,  are  connected  with  the  mine. 

We  had  a  pretty  ride  of  two  miles  more,  and  arrived 
on  the  brink  of  a  height,  and  suddenly  viewed  a 
mass  of  spires  and  domes  in  the  valley  beneath,  which 
we  at  once  knew  was  the  pretty  cathedral  town  of 
Marian n a.  We  rode  down  into  it,  and  sent  our 
letter  to  Dr.  Mockett ;  but  he  too  was  absent  attending 
Mrs.  Treloar — a  second  disappointment ;  but  we  found 
a  ranch.  Marianna  has  nine  churches,  a  seminary, 
a  bishop's  palace,  a  convent,  hospital,  college,  and 
orphanage  of  Sisters  of  Charity,  but  no  hotel  save  a 
miserable  ranch.  It  is  a  regular  cathedral  city,  and 
so  dead-alive,  so  unvisited  by  strangers,  that  I  suppose 
it  would  not  pay  to  have  one.  Our  fare  was  of  the 
worst  description.  My  feet  stuck  out  of  the  end  of 
my  miserable,  short,  straw  bed,  and  it  was  a  bitterly 
cold  night.  We  sent  round  all  our  letters  of  intro- 
duction ;  but  that  night  no  one  seemed  to  wake  up  to 
the  fact  of  our  arrival. 


fl&orro  tDelbo  aitf>  its  Environs  303 

The  next  day,  Sunday,  was  a  wet  and  miserable 
morning.  However,  later  Captain  Treloar's  son-in-law 
came  and  rescued  us,  and  took  us  to  his  house.  This 
was  a  comfortable  English  home,  where  we  found 
nicely  furnished  rooms,  and  were  cheered  with  the 
sight  of  Bass's  ale,  sherry,  and  everything  imaginable 
to  eat  and  drink,  a  piano,  and  plenty  of  books.  We 
did  not  tear  ourselves  away  from  these  luxuries  for 
three  days — from  Sunday  to  Wednesday. 

From  here  we  went  to  visit  the  Passagem  Mine. 
We  changed  our  clothes,  and  each  with  a  lantern  and 
stick  descended  a  steep,  dark,  slippery  tunnel  of  forty- 
five  fathoms  deep — the  caverns  large  and  vaulted,  and 
in  some  places  propped  up  with  beams  and  dripping 
with  water.  The  stone  is  a  mixture  of  quartz  and 
gold.  The  miners  were  all  black  slaves.  They 
were  chanting  a  wild  air  in  chorus  in  time  to  the 
strokes  of  the  hammer.  They  work  with  an  iron 
crowbar  called  a  drill  and  a  hammer,  and  each  one 
bores  away  four  •palmes  a  day.  If  they  do  six,  they 
get  paid  for  the  two  over.  They  were  streaming  with 
perspiration,  but  yet  seemed  very  merry.  The  mine 
was  lit  up  with  torches  for  us.  We  then  descended 
thirty-two  fathoms  deeper,  seeing  all  the  different 
openings  and  channels.  To  the  uninitiated  like  myself, 
it  looked  probable  that  the  caverns  of  stone,  apparently 
supported  by  nothing,  would  fall  in.  I  took  down 
my  negret  Chico.  He  showed  great  symptoms  of 
fear,  and  exclaimed,  "  Parece  O  inferno !  "  I  was 
rather  struck  by  the  justice  of  the  observation.  The 
darkness,  the  depth  of  the  caverns,  the  glare  of  the 


304      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

torches  lighting  up  the  black  figures  humming  against 
the  walls,  the  heat  and  want  of  air,  the  horrid  smells, 
the  wild  chant,  reminded  me  of  Dante.  I  wonder 
if  he  took  some  of  his  hells  out  of  a  mine  ? 

Next  day  poor  Mrs.  Treloar  died,  after  fifteen  days 
of  bilious  attack.  In  this  country,  if  you  are  well 
and  strong,  in  good  nerve  and  spirits,  and  can  fight 
your  own  way,  you  do  very  well  ;  but  the  moment 
you  are  sick,  down  with  you,  fall  out  of  the  ranks 
and  die,  unless  you  have  some  one  who  values  your 
life  as  his  own.  But  even  this  could  not  save  poor 
Mrs.  Treloar.  Mr.  Symmonds  requested  Richard,  as 
English  Consul,  to  perform  the  funeral  service,  as  they 
had  no  church,  no  clergyman,  no  burial-ground  ;  so 
they  would  not  distress  her  mind  by  the  knowledge 
that  she  was  dying.  My  husband  seemed  to  have 
been  sent  by  Providence  to  perform  this  sad  affair, 
as  the  English  here  hold  greatly  to  their  consuls 
performing  a  ceremony  in  the  absence  of  a  clergyman. 
The  Treloars  were  to  have  gone  home  to  England 
for  good  the  previous  month,  having  several  of  their 
children  at  school  in  England,  and  only  put  it  off 
for  that  "  little  while "  often  so  fatal  in  the  tropics. 
She  was  buried  on  the  hilltop,  and  was  followed  by 
all  the  men  in  the  neighbourhood,  black  and  white. 
Women  do  not  attend  funerals,  nor  sales,  nor  shops, 
nor  post-offices  in  Brazil.  Richard  read  the  service, 
and  I  was  left  in  charge  of  the  house  and  blacks  while 
they  were  all  absent.  A  little  before  the  funeral  I 
heard  a  tremendous  noise  in  the  kitchen  like  the 
crashing  of  crockery,  black  women  screaming,  and  men 


IDelbo  an&  its  Environs  305 

swearing  angry  oaths.  I  ran  in  and  found  two  of 
the  men  kniving  each  other  over  a  piece  of  money 
which  we  had  given  the  servants  for  their  attention 
to  us.  Blood  was  upon  the  ground.  I  rushed  in 
between  them  and  wrenched  their  knives  away,  and 
ordered  them  all  out  upon  the  grass  upon  their  knees, 
and  they  obeyed.  The  funeral  was  now  winding  up  the 
hill  opposite  the  house,  and  I  read  prayers  for  the  dead. 

Directly  after  the  funeral  we  mounted  our  animals 
and  rode  for  six  miles  along  a  pretty  mountainous 
'road  to  Ouro  Preto.  We  rode  down  into  the  town 
(which  looked  rather  imposing  from  the  height  we 
viewed  it)  as  the  clock  struck  six.  It  was  now 
dark,  and  we  were  received  into  the  house  of  Com- 
mendador  Paula  Santos,  Director  of  the  Bank,  and 
were  made  very  comfortable. 

Ouro  Preto  is  the  capital  of  Minas  Geraes.  It  is 
by  far  the  most  hilly  town  I  ever  saw ;  walking  up 
and  down  the  streets  is  quite  as  difficult  as  ascending 
and  descending  ladders,  and  there  is  an  equal  danger 
of  falling.  I  think  one  could  throw  a  stone  from  the 
top  of  a  street  to  the  bottom  without  its  touching 
anything  en  route.  The  President  of  the  Province 
lives  here,  and  has  a  white  palace  like  a  little  fortress. 
There  is  a  small  theatre,  a  bank,  two  tramways  (one 
provincial  and  one  imperial),  a  prison  and  large  police 
barrack,  a  townhall,  several  carved  stone  fountains,  and 
fifteen  churches.  We  found  the  one  usual  English 
family,  a  general  shopkeeper  and  watchmaker,  with  a 
wife  and  children,  brother  and  sister.  They  were  very 
hospitable.  We  stayed  here  two  days. 

VOL.  i.  20 


306      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcp  3Burton 

We  left  Ouro  Preto  at  9.40  on  Saturday  morning, 
and  rode  along  a  neither  very  good  nor  very  bad 
road,  with  fine  mountain  scenery,  and  the  wind  rather 
too  cool.  We  were  now  turning  our  faces  back  again 
towards  Morro  Velho.  We  followed  the  course  of 
the  river,  riding  in  the  dry  bed.  We  arrived  at 
Casa  Branca  (a  few  ranches)  at  1.15,  and  came  up 
with  a  party  of  American  immigrants.  Here  we  only 
changed  animals,  and  mounted  again  at  two  o'clock, 
as  we  had  a  long,  weary  ride  facing  wind  and  rain 
on  the  mountain-tops.  We  at  last  arrived  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Treloar  (brother  of  the  Mr.  Treloar  of 
Sant'  Anna).  Here  we  hoped  to  find  hospitality  ; 
but  he  too  was  in  affliction,  so  we  rode  on  to  Rio 
das  Pedras,  and  dismounted  at  3  p.m.  The  hamlet 
was  a  few  huts  and  a  burnt-down  church.  We  luckily 
got  in  fifteen  minutes  before  the  Americans,  and 
secured  some  rough  beds  and  food.  Here  we  had 
an  amusing  evening  with  the  immigrants.  They  were 
an  old  father  with  an  oldish  daughter,  two  young 
married  couples,  and  one  stray  man,  one  old,  grey- 
haired,  swallowed-tailed  gentleman,  and  a  young  woman 
with  a  lot  of  chicks.  They  were  wandering  about  in 
search  of  land  to  settle  down  and  be  farmers,  and 
were  amusing,  clever,  and  intelligent. 

Richard  awoke  us  at  3  a.m.  It  rained  in  torrents 
all  night,  and  there  was  a  succession  of  bad  storms 
of  thunder  and  lightning  ;  so  I  was  very  loath  to  get 
up.  But  whether  I  liked  it  or  not  I  was  ordered 
to  mount  at  6  a.m. 

We  had  a  long,  muddy,  rainy,  weary,  up  and  down 


flDorro  Iflelbo  anO  its  Environs  307 

hill  ride,  slipping  back  two  steps  for  every  one  forward, 
and  going  downhill  much  faster  than  we  wished, 
which  made  the  journey  appear  double  the  distance. 
After  eight  miles  we  arrived  at  our  old  sleeping-place 
on  the  borders  of  Morro  Velho,  Coche  d'Agua.  The 
old  people  were  gone,  and  the  new  ones  were  not  very 
civil,  and  we  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  even  a  cup 
of  coffee.  We  had  some  amusement  coming  along. 

Mr.  E was  strongly  in  favour  of  riding  with  a  loose 

rein.  We  were  scaling  a  greasy  hill,  and  his  animal, 
after  slithering  about  several  minutes,  fell  on  its 
stomach.  Chico  and  I  dismounted,  for  our  beasts 
couldn't  stand  ;  but  when  we  were  off  neither  could  we. 

Mr.  E 's  mule  got  up  and  ran  away;  and  Richard, 

through  wicked  fun,  though  safe  at  the  top,  would  not 
catch  it.  Chico's  mule  was  only  donkey  size.  Mr. 

E jumped  upon  it,  and  being  tall  he  looked  as  if  he 

were  riding  a  dog  and  trailing  his  legs  on  the  ground. 
He  rode  after  his  mule  and  caught  it  in  half  an  hour, 
and  we  were  all  right  again. 

From  Coche  d'Agua  next  morning  we  rode  on  to 
Morro  Velho,  and  found  the  church  bells  ringing,  and 
pretty  girls  with  sprays  of  flowers  in  their  hair 
going  to  hear  Mass.  I  was  not  allowed  to  go,  so  I 
paid  two  old  women  to  go  'and  hear  Mass  for  me, 
much  to  the  amusement  of  the  party.  We  breakfasted 
by  the  roadside,  and  rode  into  Morro  Velho  and  to 
the  Gordons.  The  journey,  though  only  twenty-four 
miles,  had  been  long  and  tedious  on  account  of  the  rain 
and  mud  and  constant  steep  ascents  and  descents.  We 
arrived  looking  like  wet  dogs  at  our  kind  host's  door  ; 


308      trbe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcp  JSurton 

and  my  appearance  especially  created  mirth,  as  my 
skirt  up  to  my  waist  was  heavy  with  mud,  my  hat  torn 
to  ribbons,  with  the  rain  running  down  the  tatters.  A 
big  bath  was  prepared  for  each  of  us.  We  changed  our 
clothes,  and  sat  down  to  a  comfortable  and  excellent 
dinner,  thankful  to  be  in  the  hospitable  shelter  of  the 
Casa  Grande  again.  Here  we  tarried  for  a  fortnight,  and 
thoroughly  explored  Morro  Velho  this  time. 

Among  other  things,  I  determined  to  go  down  into 
the  mine,  which  has  the  reputation  of  being  the  largest, 
deepest,  and  richest  gold-mine  in  Brazil.  We  had  been 
very  anxious  to  visit  its  depths  when  we  were  at  Morro 
Velho  before,  but  Mr.  Gordon  had  put  us  off  until 
our  return. 

It  was  considered  rather  an  event  for  a  lady  to  go 
down  the  mine,  especially  as  Mrs.  Gordon,  the  Super- 
intendent's wife,  who  had  been  at  Morro  Velho  nine 
years  and  a  half,  had  never  been  down.  However,  she 
consented  to  accompany  me.  She  said,  "  I  have  never 
yet  taken  courage  ;  I  am  sure  if  I  don't  do  it  now,  I 
never  shall."  So  the  end  of  it  was  that  a  crowd  of 
miners  and  their  families  and  blacks  collected  along  the 
road  and  at  the  top  of  the  mine  to  see  us  descend. 
One  lady  staying  in  the  house  with  us  (Casa  Grande) 
could  not  make  up  her  mind  to  go  ;  and  when  I  asked 
Chico,  he  wrung  his  hands,  and  implored  me  not  to  go, 
weeping  piteously.  As  we  went  along  we  could  hear 
the  miners'  delighted  remarks,  and  their  wives  wonder- 
ing :  "  Well,  to  be  sure  now,  to  think  of  they  two 
going  down  a  mile  and  a  quarter  in  the  dark,  and  they 
not  obliged  to,  and  don't  know  but  that  they  may  never 


/IDorro  IDelbo  an&  its  Environs  309 

come  up  again  !  I'd  rather  it  was  they  than  me ! " 
"  Aye,  that's  our  countrywomen  ;  they's  not  afeared 
of  nothing !  I'd  like  to  see  some  o*  they  Brazzys  put 
into  that  'ere  kibble." 

We  were  dressed  in  brown  Holland  trousers,  blouse, 
belt,  and  miner's  cap,  and  a  candle  was  stuck  on  our 
heads  with  a  dab  of  clay.  The  party  to  go  down 

consisted  of  Mr.  Gordon,  Richard,  Mr.  E >,  and 

Mr.  John  Whitaker,  an  engineer.  There  are  two 
ways  of  going  down,  by  ladders  and  by  a  bucket. 
The  ladders  are  nearly  a  thousand  yards  long.  If  you 
see  lights  moving  like  sparks  at  enormous  distances 
beneath,  it  is  apt  to  make  you  giddy.  Should  your 
clothes  catch  in  anything,  should  you  make  a  false 
step,  you  fall  into  unknown  space.  The  miners 
consider  this  safe.  They  do  it  in  half  an  hour,  running 
down  like  cats,  do  their  day's  work,  and  run  up  again 
in  three-quarters  of  an  hour ;  but  to  a  new-comer 
it  is  dreadfully  fatiguing,  and  may  occupy  four  hours 
— to  a  woman  it  is  next  to  impossible. 

The  other  way  is  easy,  but  considered  by  the  miners 
excessively  unsafe.  It  is  to  be  put  into  an  iron 
bucket  called  a  kibble,  which  is  like  a  huge  gypsy- 
pot  (big  enough  to  hold  two  ordinary-sized  people 
thinly  clad),  suspended  by  three  chains.  It  is  unwound 
by  machinery,  and  let  down  by  an  iron  rope  or  chain 
as  the  lifts  are  in  London.  It  takes  about  twenty 
minutes,  and  is  only  used  for  hauling  tons  of  stone 
out  of  the  mine  or  hauling  up  wounded  men.  The 
miners  said  to  me,  "  We  make  it  a  point  of  honour 
to  go  down  by  the  ladders;  for  the  fact  is,  on  the 


310      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  SSucton 

ladder  we  depend  on  ourselves,  but  in  the  kibble  we 
depend  on  every  link  of  the  chain,  which  breaks  from 
time  to  time."  If  the  slightest  accident  happens,  you 
can  do  nothing  to  help  yourself,  but  are  dashed  into 
an  apparently  fathomless  abyss  in  darkness.  The 
opening  where  we  first  embarked  was  a  narrow,  dark 
hole,  very  hot  and  oppressive.  The  kibble  was 

suspended  over  the  abyss.  Richard  and  Mr.  E 

went  first.  Mr.  Gordon  and  Mr.  Whitaker,  being 
superintendent  and  engineer,  went  by  the  ladders. 

In  due  time  the  kibble  returned,  and  Mrs.  Gordon 
and  I  were  put  into  it,  with  some  candles  fastened  to 
the  side  by  a  dab  of  clay,  a  piece  of  lighted  tow  in 
the  chain  above  us  that  we  might  see  the  beauties  of 
the  lower  regions,  and  a  flask  of  brandy  in  case  we 
got  faint,  which  I  am  proud  to  say  we  did  not  touch. 
As  we  looked  up  many  jokes  were  exchanged,  and 
word  was  given  to  lower  away.  We  waved  a 
temporary  farewell  to  the  sea  of  faces,  and  the  last 
thing  we  saw  was  Chico  and  Mrs.  Gordon's  black 
maid  weeping  bitterly  and  wringing  their  hands.  A 
tremendous  cheer  reached  us,  even  when  some  distance 
below. 

We  began  to  descend  slowly,  and  by  means  of  our 
rough  illuminations  we  saw  all  that  we  passed  through. 
Lower  and  lower  on  all  sides  were  dark  abysses  like 
Dante's  Inferno.  The  huge  mountain-sides  were  kept 
apart  by  giant  tree  trunks.  How  they  came  there  or 
how  fastened  up  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  man's  power 
and  God's  permission.  As  we  went  down,  down  into 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  each  dark,  yawning  cavern 


/IDorro  Iflelbo  ant)  its  Environs  31 1 

looked  uglier  than  its  neighbour.  Every  here  and 
there  was  a  forest  of  timber.  Whenever  we  passed 
any  works,  the  miners  lifted  their  lighted  caps,  which 
looked  like  sparks  in  the  immensity,  and  spoke  or  gave 
us  a  vivaf  that  we  might  not  be  frightened.  It  was 
a  comfort  to  hear  a  human  voice,  though  it  could 
do  us  no  good  if  anything  went  wrong.  Suddenly 
in  a  dark,  desolate  place  our  kibble  touched  some 
projecting  thing  and  tilted  partly  over.  I  clutched 
at  the  chains  above  my  head,  and  Mrs.  Gordon  held 
me.  It  righted  itself  in  a  second.  In  their  anxiety 
to  do  well  they  had  put  us  into  the  wrong  kibble, 
which  had  a  superfluity  of  chain,  and  had  played 
out  a  little  too  much  of  it  above.  This  happened 
three  times,  and  they  were  three  moments  of  agony — 
such  moments  as  make  people's  hair  turn  grey.  I 
was  too  full  of  life  and  hope  to  want  to  die.  Every 
one  ought  to  experience  some  such  moments  in  his 
life,  when  his  heart  flies  up  in  supplication  to  God. 
It  was  wonderful,  when  half-way  down,  to  look  below 
and  see  the  lights,  like  fireflies  in  the  forest,  moving 
about.  At  length  the  kibble  stood  still,  and  began 
to  roll  like  a  boat.  Then  it  began  to  descend  per- 
pendicularly ;  and  after  a  little  while  we  saw  the  glare 
of  lights,  and  friendly  voices  bid  us  welcome  to  the 
mines.  Loud  vivas  greeted  us  from  the  workmen. 

I  cannot  describe  how  kind  and  thoughtful  all  the 
rough  workmen  were.  Everything  was  done  to  show 
us  how  much  they  were  pleased  and  flattered  by  our 
visit,  to  allay  fear,  to  amuse  us,  and  to  show  us  every- 
thing of  interest.  It  would  have  been  a  good  lesson 


312      TEbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

in  manners  to  many  London  drawing-rooms.  We 
each  had  two  men  to  guide  us  about. 

It  was  a  stupendous  scene  of  its  kind.  Caverns 
of  quartz  pyrites  and  gold,  whose  vaulted  roofs,  walls, 
and  floors  swarmed  with  blacks  with  lighted  candles 
on  their  heads,  looked  excessively  infernal.  Each  man 
had  drill  and  hammer,  and  was  singing  a  wild  song  and 
beating  in  time  with  his  hammer.  Each  man  bores 
eight  palmes  (pounds)  a  day,  and  is  paid  accordingly, 
though  a  slave.  If  he  bores  more,  he  is  paid  for  his 
over-work.  Some  are  suspended  to  the  vaulted  roof 
by  chains,  and  in  frightful-looking  positions  ;  others 
are  on  the  perpendicular  walls. 

After  seeing  the  whole  of  this  splendid  palace  of 
darkness  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  we  sat  on  a 
slab  of  stone  and  had  some  wine.  Richard  said  to 
Mr.  Gordon,  "  Suppose  this  timber  should  ever  catch 
fire,  what  would  you  do  ?  "  Mr.  Gordon  laughed,  and 
said,  "  Oh,  that  is  impossible  ;  the  whole  place  is 
dripping  with  water,  and  the  wood  is  all  damp,  and 
it  would  not  take  ;  and  we  have  no  chance  of  fire- 
damp and  other  dangers  of  explosion  as  in  other  mines 
— coal-mines,  for  instance.  Oh,  I'm  not  afraid  of 
that."  * 

At  this  time  the  mine  was  at  its  climax  of  greatness 
and  perfection,  perfectly  worked  and  regulated,  and 
paying  enormously. 

We  mounted  as  we  came.  I  found  it  a  much  more 
unpleasant  sensation  and  more  frightening  to  ascend 

1  Yet  the  mine  was  almost  destroyed  by  fire  some  six  months 
after  our  visit. 


/l&orro  Delbo  anb  its  Environs  313 

than  to  descend.  Yet  sometimes  out  of  some  caverns 
of  horror  on  the  way  up  would  pop  an  urchin  of  ten 
or  twelve  laughing,  and  hop  across  a  beam  like  a 
frog  without  the  least  fear.  The  Brazilian  authorities 
wanted  to  interfere  to  prevent  children  being  employed 
in  the  mine,  and  Mr.  Gordon  to  please  them  stopped 
it ;  but  whole  families  came  and  implored  on  their  knees 
to  be  taken  back.  They  earned  much,  and  their  lives 
were  rendered  respectable  and  well  regulated,  and  their 
condition  superior  under  the  existing  regime.  But 
there  is  no  doubt  that  this  part  of  the  province  would 
degenerate  terribly,  should  the  colony  be  broken  up, 
or  the  present  Superintendent  leave. 

In  the  evening  the  miners  and  their  officers  gave  us 
a  concert.  A  large  room  in  the  stores  was  very  prettily 
decorated  with  palm  and  the  flower  of  Saint  John 
(which  is  a  creeper  like  a  rich  orange  honeysuckle  and 
dark  green  leaves),  and  chandeliers  were  intermixed. 
There  was  a  little  stage  for  the  performers,  adorned 
with  a  large  painted  representation  of  the  British  arms, 
and  a  place  for  the  band.  The  room,  though  large, 
was  crowded  ;  all  the  little  colony  was  present.  We 
had  comic  performances,  Christy  Minstrels,  and  senti- 
mental songs  for  about  two  hours,  wound  up  by  a 
dance,  and  at  midnight  broke  up  with  "  God  save  the 
Queen." 

We  were  now  preparing  for  the  second  half  of  our 
trip — to  canoe  down  the  Rio  Sao  Francisco  (thirteen 
hundred  miles)  from  Sabara  to  the  sea.  The  expedi- 
tion was  to  be  Richard,  myself  (if  permitted),  and  Mr. 
E ,  who  was  to  choose  whether  he  would  go  or 


3M      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JBurton 

not  (as  it  turned  out,  fortunately  for  him,  he  preferred 
to  return  to  Rio  with  the  Gold  Troop  on  July  28). 
I  was  entreating  to  go,  and  my  fate  was  hanging  in 
the  balance,  when  the  question  was  settled  for  me  by 
an  accident. 

Richard  had  been  requested  to  give  a  lecture  on 
his  travels.  The  night  of  July  27  was  fixed.  The 
room  was  arranged  as  before.  Richard  spoke  of  the 
pleasure  he  had  in  becoming  acquainted  with  them 
all,  and  told  them  his  impressions  about  Morro  Velho. 
He  thanked  the  officers,  captains,  miners,  and  all  for 
their  kindness  and  attention,  and  touched  upon  his 
travels  generally,  especially  the  Nile,  Mecca,  and 

Dahome.  Mr.  Gordon  then  spoke,  and  Mr.  E , 

and  many  pretty  little  speeches  were  made.  It  lasted 
about  an  hour,  and  then  we  had  a  short  concert.  I 
sang  four  times  ;  and  Chico  was  dressed  up,  and  sang 
very  prettily  with  the  guitar,  and  danced.  All  the 
singers  did  something,  and  a  little  dancing,  and  "  God 
save  the  Queen "  as  usual  terminated  the  festivities. 
Unfortunately  for  me,  after  my  first  song,  as  I  was 
going  off  the  platform  there  was  a  deep  step  to  take 
in  the  dark,  and  I  fell  off  and  sprained  my  ankle 
severely  ;  but  I  managed  to  perform  my  part  to  the 
end  by  sitting  still,  excepting  when  I  had  to  sing  ;  so 
that  it  was  not  found  out  until  all  was  over,  and  I  had 
to  be  carried  home.  This  was  a  dreadful  bore  for 
Richard,  who  could  not  take  me,  and  did  not  like  to 
leave  me  ;  so  he  good-naturedly  put  off  his  journey  for 
ten  days. 

The   doctor   at  first   thought   my  leg  was  broken, 


/IDorro  IDelbo  ant)  its  Environs  315 

but  it  turned  out  to  be  only  a  severe  contusion.  I 
was  five  days  in  bed,  and  then  was  promoted  to 
crutches,  litter,  and  sofa,  which  lasted  me  twenty 
days. 

At  last  the  day  came  to  see  Richard  off  on  his 
important  journey  in  a  canoe  from  Sabara  down  the 
Rio  das  Velhas  and  Rio  Sao  Francisco  to  the  sea, 
visiting  the  diamond-mines  at  Diamantina  from  the 

nearest  point  (to  that  city)  of  the  river.     Mr.  E 

had  already  started  for  Rio.  I  did  not  think  it  con- 
venable  to  travel  alone  with  the  jeune  brigand,  so  he 
did  not  wait  for  me.  We  set  out  from  Morro  Velho 
on  August  6,  a  large  party  on  horse  and  mule  back, 
poor  me  in  a  litter,  and  of  course  ordered  to  return 
with  the  party.  The  litter  is  a  covered  stretcher, 
with  a  mule  in  front  and  one  behind,  in  shafts,  and  it 
takes  two  men  to  manage  it.  It  is  expensive  travel- 
ling, and  a  great  luxury  for  those  who  tire  soon  in 
the  saddle ;  but  I  would  rather  ride  any  distance,  as 
the  motion  makes  me  ill.  It  is  not  easy  like  the 
hammock.  We  rode  for  twelve  miles  over  a  pretty 
mountainous  road  to  Sabara,  a  very  picturesque,  ancient- 
looking  town,  with  eight  churches  and  some  important 
houses,  and  with  a  decent  vendha,  or  ranch.  It  is  on 
a  head  of  the  Rio  das  Velhas,  and  seems  to  be  the 
centre  of  North  American  emigration  here.  The 
first  view  of  the  town  and  winding  river  is  exceedingly 
pretty.  A  church  on  a  hilltop  is  the  first  indication 
or  landmark  of  Sabara,  the  town  being  immediately 
below  it.  We  arrived,  ranched  ourselves,  and  got  a 
good  dinner.  We  went  to  the  only  shop,  and  bought 


316      Ube  "Romance  of  -Jsabel  Xaog  JSurtou 

some  French  jewellery  for  a  few  coppers,  as  parting 
presents  for  each  other,  by  way  of  "  chaff"  ;  and  after 
seeing  the  town,  ended  the  evening  as  usual  seated 
round  an  empty  ranch  on  the  floor  or  on  our  boxes, 
and  drank  execrable  tea,  which  tasted  like  hot  brandy- 
and-water  without  sugar,  and  some  beer  presented 
to  us  by  the  great  man  of  the  place.  As  I  was  told 
he  was  very  rich  and  stingy,  I  asked  him  to  make  me 
a  present  of  a  few  bottles  of  beer  for  my  party,  as  we 
were  thirsty  ;  but  if  I  remember  right,  he  sent  me  in 
a  bill  for  it  next  morning. 

In  the  morning  we  got  a  good  ranch  breakfast, 
during  which  we  were  visited  by  all  the  "  swells  "  of 
Sabara.  We  set  out  for  the  river,  where  the  canoes  were. 
Two  canoes  were  lashed  together,  boarded,  and  covered 
over  with  an  awning  just  like  a  tent.  There  was  a 
little  brick  stove,  benches,  and  a  writing-table  erected. 
Richard  and  I  went  on  board,  and  the  young  lady  of 
the  party,  Miss  Dundas,  niece  of  "  Uncle  Brown," 
the  before-mentioned  "  Padre  Eterno,"  broke  a  bottle 
of  caxassi  over  her  bows,  exclaiming,  " Brig  Eliza" 
whereby  hangs  an  untold  joke.  Besides  our  own 
party,  nearly  all  the  village  followed  us.  So  there 
arose  respectable  cheers  for  the  "  Brig  Eliza"  "  Captain 
and  Mrs.  Burton,"  "Success  to  the  expedition,"  "The 
Superintendent  and  his  wife,"  "  Prosperity  to  Sabara," 
"  The  Emperor  of  Brazil,"  «  The  Queen  of  England," 
with  many  vivas.  We  then  took  all  our  own  party 
on  board,  and  sent  the  animals  forward  to  meet  us, 
and  shoved  off.  There  were  two  blacks  in  the  stern, 
and  two  in  the  bows  to  paddle  and  pole,  and  one  black 


dDorro  IDelbo  anfc  its  Environs  317 

to  cook  for  Richard  and  attend  upon  him.  One  old 
black  was  disagreeably  nervous,  and  begged  Richard 
to  exchange  him  at  the  next  town,  which  he  did.  We 
spooned  down  with  the  stream,  which  ran  very  fast, 
and  went  down  two  rapids,  and  got  aground  twice,  and 
towards  sunset  arrived  at  Roc.a  Grande.  Here  they 
all  took  leave  of  Richard — I  need  not  say  how  sadly. 
They  kindly  left  me  behind  for  a  space  to  follow,  as 
it  was  a  more  serious  business  for  me  to  say  "good- 
bye "  than  for  them.  "  I  was  not  to  expect  him  till 
I  saw  him.  It  might  be  two  months,  or  four,  or 
six."  He  did  not  know  what  might  happen.  The 
dangers  were  Indians,  piranhas  (a  sort  of  river  pike), 
fever  and  ague,  and  of  course  the  rapids.  At  last 
I  parted  from  him  on  his  *  brig,'  with  the  old 
swallow-tailed  gentleman  (before  mentioned),  who  had 
begged  a  two-days'  passage,  and  a  savage  cao  de  fela 
and  his  five  blacks ;  and  from  a  bank  I  watched 
the  barque  with  dim  eyes  round  a  winding  of  the 
river,  which  hid  it  from  my  sight.  The  sun  was 
sinking  as  I  turned  away.  I  was  put  into  my  litter, 
and  taken  back  to  Sabara,  where  I  fell  in  with  my 
party,  and  we  returned  to  Morro  Velho  as  we  came. 
This  was  August  7. 

I  remained  with  my  kind  friends  the  Gordons 
till  I  got  well  enough  to  ride  all  day  without  injury. 
On  one  occasion  I  was  able  to  be  of  use  to  Mr. 
Gordon  in  a  small  matter  which  required  a  little 
diplomacy  and  a  gallop  of  three  leagues,  twelve  miles 
either  way,  out  and  in  within  a  given  time,  the 
message  he  had  sent  having  failed.  I  asked  to  go  ;  I 


318      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xa&g  JSurton 

wanted  to  try  if  I  was  fit  for  my  long  ride,  and  he 
gave  me  my  choice  of  all  the  stables.  I  selected  a 
white  horse  of  remarkable  speed  and  endurance,  with 
a  strong  cross  of  the  Arab  in  him,  and  it  certainly 
would  have  been  my  own  fault  if  I  had  failed  as  to 
time.  I  rode  there,  found  the  desired  decision,  and 
walked  into  his  office  with  the  answer  long  before 
the  time,  which  pleased  him  very  much.  After  that 
I  thought  I  was  fit  to  set  out  on  my  return  journey 
to  Rio.  I  had  already  stayed  so  long  in  their  house, 
receiving  great  kindness  and  hospitality;  and  though 
they  begged  of  me  to  continue  with  them  until  it 
was  time  to  meet  Richard  at  Rio,  I  felt  that  life  was 
too  serious  to  pass  my  days  in  the  pleasant  dolce  far 
niente  of  catching  butterflies,  which  really  was  my 
principal  occupation  at  Morro  Velho.  There  was 
too  much  to  be  done  elsewhere,  so  I  begged  Mr. 
Gordon  to  lend  me  seven  animals,  two  slaves,  and 
one  of  his  tropeiro  captains,  or  muleteers,  and  I  pre- 
pared to  leave  this  hospitable  family  on  the  coming 
August  25. 

Before  this  date,  as  I  felt  sufficiently  recovered,  I 
had  gradually  emancipated  myself  from  litter  and  sofa, 
and  tried  my  strength  as  usual.  I  had  one  very 
pleasant  and  amusing  excursion. 

There  was  a  village  called  Santa  Rita,  about  five 
miles  from  Morro  Velho,  where  they  have  a  church, 
but  no  priest ;  and  being  the  Feast  of  the  Assumption 
of  Our  Lady,  a  great  day,  the  villages  had  sent  over 
to  borrow  the  Morro  Velho  padre.  They  sent  a 
mounted  attendant  and  a  horse  saddled  with  silver 


d&orro  Delbo  anb  its  Environs  319 

trappings  to  bring  him  there  and  back.  I  asked 
him  to  take  me.  Mr.  Gordon  lent  me  a  horse  and 
a  mounted  attendant,  and  we  set  out  on  a  most  lovely 
morning  for  our  pretty  mountain  ride.  The  padre 
was  in  the  height  of  Minas  fashion  and  elegance. 
He  wore  jack-boots,  white  corduroys,  a  very  smart 
coat,  waistcoat,  watch-chain,  embroidered  Roman 
collar,  a  white  pouche  with  tassels  and  silk  cravat, 
and  enormous  silver  spurs.  On  arriving,  we  were 
received  by  upwards  of  forty  people  in  a  private 
house  on  the  way  to  the  church.  From  there  we 
went  on  to  the  church,  a  small,  tawdry,  roadside  chapel, 
where  the  padre  said  Mass  ;  and  though  the  people 
were  very  devout,  the  children  and  dogs  were  very 
distracting.  We  then  went  to  a  vendha,  and  spread 
our  basket  of  provisions.  This  made  the  people 
furious.  The  padre  had  passed  me  off  as  his  niece, 
so  everybody  was  anxious  to  have  the  honour  of 
doing  hospitality  to  the  padre  and  his  niece.  About 
fifteen  messages  were  sent  to  us,  so  we  said  we  would 
go  round  and  take  coffee  with  them  after  our  breakfast. 
The  great  attraction  of  the  place  was  a  handsome  old 
lady,  Donna  Floris  Vella,  civilized  and  intelligent  by 
nature.  She  petted  me  a  good  deal  at  first  for 
being  the  padre's  niece,  and  called  me  bena  moca 
(here  to  be  young  and  fat  is  the  highest  personal 
compliment  they  can  pay  you),  and  quarrelled  with 
us  for  going  off  into  the  mato — the  forest,  as  she 
called  the  vendha — to  breakfast,  instead  of  coming 
to  her.  But  I  suddenly  forgot  that  I  was  the  padre's 
niece,  and  turned  round  and  spoke  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick, 


320      ttbe  ttomance  of  Isabel  Zaog  Burton 

the  Morro  Velho  Master  of  Horse,  who  had  been 
sent  to  attend  upon  me,  in  English.  When  she  heard 
me  speaking  English  so  fluently,  she  flew  at  the 
padre  and  punched  him  in  the  ribs  in  a  friendly 
way,  and  told  him  he  was  a  liar ;  but  she  kept 
up  the  joke  with  the  rest  ;  so  we  had  coffee  and 
very  interesting  general  conversation  about  England 
and  civilization,  church  matters  and  marriages,  and 
were  taken  round  to  several  houses.  They  would 
have  been  jealous  if  we  had  only  visited  one  ; 
so  we  did  not  reach  home  till  late  in  the  after- 
noon. 

One  day  afterwards,  as  I  was  sitting  at  the  church 
door  at  Morro  Velho,  I  saw  some  hammocks  with 
bodies  lying  in  them.  They  were  carried  by  others, 
all  dripping  with  blood.  The  kibble — the  same  one 
we  had  been  down  the  mine  in — had  broken  a  link 
of  its  chain  and  fallen.  How  sorry  it  made  me  feel, 
and  how  thankful  that  it  did  not  happen  on  our 
day,  as  it  easily  might !  Mr.  Gordon  is  so  careful 
about  accidents  that  he  has  the  chain  hauled  over 
and  examined  every  twelve  hours,  and  a  prize  is 
given  to  any  one  who  can  find  a  faulty  link  ;  yet  in 
spite  of  all  this  from  time  to  time  it  will  break  away. 
I  think  it  happened  twice  during  my  stay.  There 
is  not  the  smallest  occurrence  that  happens  in  that 
large  colony  that  does  not  come  under  Mr.  Gordon's 
eye  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  every  morning. 
The  wonder  is  how  he  finds  time  for  everything  and 
every  one  with  so  much  ease  to  himself. 

While   I  was   at  Morro    Velho  he   allowed   me   to 


flftorro  Delbo  anfc  its  Environs  321 

organize  little  singing  parties  every  night.  All  who 
could  sing  used  to  assemble,  and  he  would  join  us, 
and  we  learnt  duets,  trios,  quartettes,  chorus  glees, 
and  so  on.  It  brought  people  together ;  and  he 
said  it  was  refreshing  after  the  day's  work,  instead  of 
sitting  reading  or  writing  in  a  corner,  always  tired. 

So    passed   the   time    at   Morro    Velho,   until    the 
day  of  my  departure  dawned. 


VOL.  i. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

MY  LONELY  RIDE   TO  RIO 
(1867) 

The  day  of  my  delight  is  the  day  when  you  draw  near, 
And  the  day  of  mine  affright  is  the  day  you  turn  away. 
ALF  LAYLAH  WA  LAYLAH 

(Burtons  "Arabian  Nighti"). 

ON  Sunday,  August  25,  we  had  a  sad  dinner  at 
the  Casa  Grande  at  midday,  on  account  of  the 
breaking  up  our  little  party,  which  had  been  so  pleasant 
off  and  on  for  the  past  two  months.  We  should  pro- 
bably never  meet  again.  I  bade  Mrs.  Gordon  farewell, 
and  at  3.30  a  considerable  cavalcade  set  out  from  Mr. 
Gordon's  hospitable  door.  I  had  to  pass  through  the 
village  of  Morro  Velho.  There  appeared  many  a  waving 
handkerchief,  and  I  received  many  a  warm  handshake 
and  "  God-speed." 

At  the  top  of  the  village  hill  I  turned  to  take  a  last 
grateful  farewell  of  valley,  church,  and  village — the  little 
colony,  with  its  white  settlements  and  pretty  bungalows, 
where  I  had  passed  so  many  pleasant  days.  We  rode 
along  one  of  the  beautiful  roads,  which  I  have  before 
described,  for  about  six  miles,  often  silent  or  trying  to 

make  cheerful  remarks.     Mr.  Gordon  accompanied  me. 

322 


%onel£  TRf&e  to  1Rfo  323 

A  little  before  five  o'clock  the  sun's  rays  were  beginning 
to  fade  away  into  the  pleasant,  illuminated  coolness  of 
late  afternoon,  and  we  stopped  at  a  house  agreed  upon 
as  the  parting-place,  the  house  of  the  same  Donna  Floris 
Vella  before  mentioned,  an  old  widow  lady  with  a 
delicate  son.  Though  already  grey  and  aged,  she  was 
very  buxom  and  clever,  though  deprived  by  circum- 
stances of  cultivation.  She  was  what  we  would  call  "  a 
good  fellow."  Here  we  stayed  half  an  hour,  and  looked 
at  her  flowers.  Then  we  remounted,  and  rode  on  for 
a  few  hundred  yards.  My  host,  Mr.  Gordon,  who 
commanded  our  party,  here  anticipated  a  little  mutiny, 
as  all  in  their  kindness  of  heart  wanted  to  accompany 
the  lone  woman,  and  some  begged  to  go  with  me  for 
one  day  and  some  even  for  one  stage.  So  we  suddenly 
stopped  in  a  tract  of  low  brushwood,  and  he  gently 
but  firmly  said,  "  It  was  here  that  I  parted  with  my 
daughter  when  her  husband  took  her  to  England,  and 
it  is  here  that  I  will  part  with  you."  I  shook  hands 
silently  with  him,  and  then  with  the  others  all  round,  and 
as  the  sun's  last  rays  faded  into  evening  I  turned  the 
head  of  my  <l  gallant  grey  "  towards  my  long  ride  ;  but 
I  turned  myself  in  the  saddle,  and  watched  them  all 
retreating  across  the  tract  homewards  until  the  last 
waving  handkerchief  had  disappeared. 

It  was  one  of  those  beautiful  South  American  evenings, 
cool  and  fresh  after  the  day's  heat;  and  twilight  was 
succeeded  by  a  brilliant  starlight  such  as  England's 
denizens  have  never  dreamt  of.  There  was  perfect 
stillness,  save  the  hum  of  late  insects  and  a  noise  like 
distant  rain  ;  sweet  smells  from  the  forest  were  wafted 


324      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

across  my  path  ;  and  dark,  brown  birds  of  magpie  shape 
flitted  along  the  ground  like  big  bats  or  moths,  some- 
times perching  for  an  instant,  and  disappearing  without 
noise  in  a  ghostlike  fashion.  I  felt  very  sad.  I  was 
sorry  to  leave  my  friends.  Two  months  even  "  off 
and  on  "  is  like  twelve  months  to  a  wanderer  and  an 
Englishwoman  in  exile,  and  above  all  in  the  wilds. 
She  is  glad  to  meet  her  country  people  when  they  are 
tynd ;  and  they  had  been  so  very  kind.  Moreover, 
I  was  returning  after  a  taste  of  bush  life,  not  to  my 
eyrie  in  Sao  Paulo,  but  to  the  cab  shafts  of  semi- 
civilization  in  Rio  de  Janeiro. 

My  retinue  consisted  of  the  Captain  of  the  Gold 
Troop,  a  kind,  attentive  man.  He  rode  down  with 
the  Gold  Troop  from  the  mines,  and  protected  it  with 
an  old  two-barrelled  horse-pistol,  which  would  never 
go  off  when  we  wanted  to  shoot  anything  (and  by 
way  of  parenthesis  I  may  remark  that,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  small  boy  to  look  after  the  mules,  I  would 
undertake  for  a  bet  to  rob  the  troop  myself).  My 
capitao,  whom  for  the  future  I  shall  call  Senhor  Jorge, 
spoke  but  little,  and  that  in  Brazilian.  I  should  call 
him  a  very  silent  youth,  which  was  an  advantage  in 
passing  beautiful  scenery,  or  when  taking  notes,  or 
feeling  inclined  for  thought ;  but  there  were  moments 
when  I  wanted  to  glean  information  about  the  country, 
and  then  I  used  to  draw  him  out  with  success. 
Besides  this  stalwart  there  was  my  faithful  Chico,  two 
slaves  to  take  care  of  the  animals,  six  mules  for  baggage 
and  riding,  and  my  grey  horse. 

We  arrived  at  the  ranch  of  Sant'  Antonio  d'Acima 


Xonelg  IRifce  to  1Rio  325 

at  about  eight  o'clock.  Here  I  got  a  comfortable 
straw  bed  and  some  milk.  Some  of  the  inhabitants, 
about  fifteen  in  number,  came  over  to  our  ranch,  which 
consisted  of  four  bare,  whitewashed  walls,  a  ceiling 
of  plaited  bamboo,  a  mud  floor,  a  wooden  shutter  for 
a  window,  two  wooden  benches  and  table,  and  three 
tallow  dips.  These  good  people  sang  songs  and  glees, 
and  danced  Minas  dances  for  me  to  the  native  wire 
guitar,  snapping  their  fingers,  and  beating  time  with 
their  feet.  They  sing  and  dance  at  the  same  time. 
They  were  all  very  merry.  At  ten  I  retired  to  try 
and  sleep,  leaving  them  to  continue  their  festivities ; 
but  what  with  the  excitement  of  the  day,  and  the 
still  twanging  guitars  at  the  other  side  of  the  parti- 
tion, I  did  not  succeed. 

At  2  a.m.  I  rose,  and,  calling  to  Senhor  Jorge,  asked 
him  to  send  for  the  animals.  The  two  slaves  were 
sent  to  the  pasture  to  look  for  them,  drive  them  in,  and 
feed  them.  While  this  operation  was  going  on,  I  paid 
the  master  for  my  night's  entertainment  the  sum  of 
seven  milreis,  or  fourteen  shillings.  When  I  mounted, 
it  was  4  a.m.  It  was  quite  dark  and  foggy,  but  this  I 
did  not  mind.  I  had  heard  from  all  quarters  that  the 
country  was  execrable.  My  mule,  like  Byron's  corsair, 
possessed  one  virtue  to  a  thousand  crimes,  and  that  was 
surefooted  ness,  and  had  an  objection  to  deep  holes ; 
and  were  the  whole  journey  to  have  been  performed  on 
a  single  plank,  I  would  have  ridden  him  in  the  dark 
without  a  bridle.  I  threw  it  on  his  neck,  and  tried  to 
keep  my  hands  warm.  Soon  the  fog  lifted,  and  the 
moon's  last  crescent  showed  us  the  way,  aided  by 


326      ftbe  iRomance  of  Isabel  Xafcg  JSurton 

starlight.  The  dawn  grew  upon  us  at  5.30,  and  at 
6.30  the  sun  gilded  the  mountain-tops.  At  eight  we 
arrived  at  Rio  das  Pedras,  our  old  station,  breakfasted 
from  our  basket,  and  changed  animals.  I  had  arranged 
to  ride  my  mule  in  the  dark,  but  my  good  grey  horse 
in  the  daylight,  for  he  trotted  well,  and  this  would 
relieve  the  journey  greatly.  We  had  now  ridden 
twelve  miles.  My  mule  was  lazy,  I  had  no  spur,  and 
besides  the  country  was  difficult.  I  had  still  twelve 
miles  to  go.  So  I  changed  for  the  grey.  I  passed 
over  several  bits  of  prairie  ground,  where  I  gave  my 
grey  "  spirits."  I  arrived  at  twelve  o'clock,  two  hours 
later  than  I  had  intended,  at  Casa  Branca,  the  station 
where  we  had  stopped  five  weeks  previously.  The 
sun  had  already  been  fierce  for  two  hours.  It  is  an 
excellent  plan  in  Brazil  to  start  early  and  ride  your 
twenty-four  or  thirty  miles  before  ten  or  eleven,  and  rest 
during  the  great  heat  of  the  day  under  shelter.  It  saves 
both  man  and  beast,  and  enables  them  to  last  longer;  and 
on  a  moonlight  or  starlight  morning  in  the  tropics  you 
lose  nothing  of  scenery,  it  is  so  bright.  Casa  Branca 
was  an  old  broken-down  house  in  a  valley  near  a  river. 
The  only  available  room  was  occupied  by  an  invalid. 
The  woman  of  the  house,  be  it  remarked,  had  twenty- 
four  children,  and  a  cat  for  each  child  ;  so  we  had  scanty 
room,  but  decent  food — canjica  (a  rice  mess),  fowl  roast 
and  stevted,farinha  (flour),  coves  (cabbage),  with  tocinho 
(bacon  fat),  and  feijao  (black  beans).  My  sleeping- 
place  was  a  room  with  four  narrow  mud  walls,  a  rush 
ceiling,  mud  floor,  a  door  which  only  kept  shut  by 
planting  a  stake  against  it,  and  a  bit  of  sacking  covered 


Xonels  TCifce  to  IRio  327 

the  hole  representing  a  window.  Every  day,  on  arriving 
at  my  ranch,  I  first  looked  after  the  animals  and  their 
comforts,  for  on  this  all  depends ;  then  settled  my 
own,  wrote  up  this  journal,  saw  that  the  men  had  all 
they  wanted,  dined,  and  then  inspected  the  place,  and 
read  till  falling  asleep,  always  rising  at  I  or  2  a.m. 
This  evening  I  took  a  stroll  down  the  partially  dried-up 
bed  of  the  river  by  twilight,  and  met  herds  of  cattle 
being  driven  home.  The  picture  would  have  made 
a  good  Turner.  On  my  return  Chico  brought  me  a 
caxassi  bath ;  this  is,  literally,  a  grog  of  native  rum 
and  hot  water,  without  sugar,  which  gives  a  refreshing 
sleep.  In  these  countries  there  is  a  minute  tick,  which 
covers  you  by  millions,  burrowing  into  your  flesh ; 
you  cannot  extract  it,  and  it  maddens  you.  At  night 
you  derive  an  inexpressible  relief  from  having  the 
grog  bath. 

Next  morning  we  rose  at  2.20,  but  did  not  get  off 
till  4  a.m.  It  was  pitch  dark,  raining,  with  high  wind, 
and  altogether  a  decidedly  suicidal  kind  of  morning. 
Instead  of  going  down  the  bed  of  the  river,  we  struck 
away  to  the  right  (N.W.),  on  a  new  road  to  any  I 
had  been  formerly.  We  groped  our  way  through 
rain  and  biting  wind.  At  7  a.m.  we  took  a  last 
view  of  the  cross  of  Morro  Velho  from  a  height 
forty-six  miles  off,  having  passed  through  Cachoeira 
do  Campo,  a  long,  straggling  village  which  climbed  a 
hill  and  possessed  a  church  and  one  or  two  respectable 
houses.  It  should  be  remarked  that  in  Minas  Geraes 
there  are  a  great  number  of  large  black  crosses,  with 
all  the  instruments  of  the  Passion,  erected  either  before 


328      ftbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

the  parish  church  or  on  heights  ;  they  were  introduced 
by  the  Jesuit  missionaries.  An  Englishman  having  any 
great  enterprise  on  hand  will  say  as  an  incentive  to 
the  blacks,  "  When  such  a  work  is  completed,  I  will 
plant  a  cross  in  your  village "  ;  and  the  hope  of  this 
makes  them  anxious  and  hard-working.  We  passed 
a  deserted  house  and  ranch.  The  country  all  about 
was  ugly,  wild,  and  desolate,  and  composed  chiefly  of 
barren  campos.  At  9  a.m.  we  arrived  at  Chiquero,  a 
little  village  and  ranch  on  a  hill.  We  picnicked  in  the 
open  ranch  with  the  mules,  not  liking  to  go  into  a  hot 
shelter  and  come  out  again  in  the  wind.  Meantime 
the  sun  came  out  and  scorched  us  up.  We  changed 
animals,  and  left  Chiquero  at  ten.  My  mule  "  Camon- 
dongo  "  trotted  after  us  like  a  dog.  Our  road  was  bad, 
but  a  little  less  ugly  than  hitherto.  We  saw  a  fox  in 
the  wood,  and  Senhor  Jorge  tried  to  shoot  it  with 
the  old  horse-pistol,  but  failed.  Later  on  we  passed 
through  some  woods,  and  finally  saw  Ouro  Branco 
quite  close  to  us  from  a  height  on  the  other  side 
of  the  serra.  I  was  quite  delighted,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  we  shall  get  in  early  to-day."  "  Patience," 
said  my  capitao  ;  "  wait  a  little."  We  had  to  make 
an  enormous  detour  of  at  least  two  leagues  to  get  to 
Ouro  Branco,  which  seemed  close  to  us,  because  we 
could  not  cut  straight  across  the  serra,  which  was 
impassable.  It  was  very  irritating  always  seeing  the 
town  near  us,  and  yet  always  unable  to  reach  it. 
I  wanted  to  ride  straight  down  the  serra,  but 
Senhor  Jorge  wouldn't  let  me,  and  so  we  eventually 
passed  round  under  the  rocks  beneath  it.  I  saw  that 


OLonels  fRifce  to  IRio  329 

he  was  right,  though  it  seemed  such  a  waste  of  time. 
Still,  the  delay  was  not  to  be  regretted,  as  the  only 
curious  feature  of  this  part  is  in  this  turn,  which  is 
full  of  curious  hills  covered  with  stones  of  a  wonder- 
ful and  natural  formation,  starting  out  of  the  earth  in 
a  slanting  position.  The  only  idea  it  conveys  to  the 
mind  is  that  of  a  hilly  churchyard,  overstocked  with 
tombstones  all  blown  on  one  side  by  the  wind.  They 
are  intersected  with  a  curious  stunted  tree  or  shrub, 
with  a  tuft  at  the  end  of  each  branch  ;  and  every  here 
and  there  was  a  small  patch  or  forest  of  them,  and 
they  presented  a  very  weird  look  in  the  surrounding 
desolation.  I  did  not  know,  nor  could  Senhor  Jorge 
inform  me,  what  these  stones  were  made  of,  nor  why 
this  curious  formation.  Though  he  had  travelled  the 
road  for  seven  years,  and  been  in  the  country  since 
his  birth,  he  had  never  remarked  them  before.  Coming 
in  we  saw  a  peasant  with  a  stick  and  a  pistol  fighting 
a  cobra.  It  appeared  a  long  day,  as  we  had  had  five 
hours  of  darkness,  biting  wind,  and  rain,  followed  by 
four  hours  of  scorching  sun. 

We  arrived  at  Ouro  Branco  at  one  o'clock.  It  is 
a  long,  straggling  village,  with  a  church  and  a  few 
nice,  respectable,  white  houses.  A  wall  of  green  serra 
faces  the  village,  which  runs  round  on  the  top  of  a 
semicircular  eminence  under  the  serra.  It  had  several 
old  houses,  one  marked  1759,  a  Minas  cross,  and 
an  old  stone  fountain.  The  ranch  was  respectable, 
but  very  dirty  behind  the  scenes.  I  went  into  the 
inner  part  to  prepare  food  myself,  and  was  thankful 
that  I  did  so.  The  women  were  unwashed,  dirtily 


33°      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xao$  Burton 

clad,  covered  with  snuff,  and  with  hair  streaming 
down  their  backs ;  and  the  kitchen  utensils  cannot  be 
described.  It  is  almost  impossible  for  an  English- 
woman in  any  part  of  the  world,  no  matter  how  rough 
she  may  become,  even  in  bushranging,  to  view  dirt 
with  calm  and  indifference. 

I  left  Ouro  Branco  at  4.30  a.m.  It  was  then  pitch 
dark,  but  finally  the  heavy  clouds  and  small  rain  cleared 
away,  and  we  enjoyed  starlight,  then  a  delicious  dawn 
and  bright  morning.  We  first  rode  through  a  long, 
straggling  village,  called  Carreiras,  and  afterwards 
passed  a  small  fazenda,  where  there  were  evidences  of 
a  refined  mind  ;  it  was  radiant  with  flowers,  and  trellised 
with  creepers.  Our  road  to-day  was  prettier.  We 
passed  through  well-wooded  lanes  with  pretty  foliage — 
the  umbrella  tree  and  feathery  mimosa.  The  next 
feature  worth  remarking  was  a  small  river,  which  had 
overhanging  trees  of  a  white-and-pink  feathery  flower 
which  yields  an  edible  bean.  I  sent  one  of  our  men 
to  pick  some.  They  have  a  branch  of  green  buds  in 
the  middle,  and  the  external  ones  sprout  forth  in 
feather,  which  is  magenta  pink  at  its  base  and  snow 
white  at  the  ends,  terminating  in  a  yellow  knob.  We 
then  met  some  men  hunting  peccary  ;  the  master  with 
a  horse  and  gun,  and  the  beaters  with  dogs  in  couples 
and  hatchets.  At  8  a.m.  we  arrived  at  a  small  ranch, 
in  a  forest  called  Holaria,  kept  by  an  Italian  and  a 
Portuguese.  The  former  keeps  his  original  grind- 
organ,  which  attracted  all  the  birds  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, who  perched  and  sang  loudly  in  the  tree-tops 
surrounding  it.  He  had,  however,  forgotten  his  native 


1Rioe  to  1Rio  331 

tongue.  We  picketed  the  animals,  and  breakfasted  in 
the  open. 

The  gigantic  earth-slips  in  this  part  of  the  world 
present  a  very  remarkable  appearance.  They  appeared 
like  yawning  gulfs,  as  if  some  awful  convulsion  of 
Nature  had  just  taken  place ;  and  one  can  hardly 
believe  the  hubbub  that  is  effected  by  little  streams 
of  water  wearing  away  and  causing  the  earth  to  fall. 
Some  appeared  as  if  a  vast  plain  had  sunk,  leaving 
gigantic  walls,  fanciful  castles,  and  pyramids  of  earth 
standing  alone  in  the  middle.  They  are  of  a  bright 
red  clay,  which  the  sun  variegates  like  a  kaleidoscope. 

We  left  Holaria  at  nine,  and  came  to  Quelsez,  a 
long  village  with  shops  and  a  few  decent  houses.  I 
stopped  at  the  shop  of  a  Portuguese  Jew  to  look  at 
violas.  We  then  rode  along  a  rather  pretty  and  level 
road,  where  we  met  mules  and  tropeiros,  which  indicated 
that  we  were  joining  the  civilized  world  again,  and 
suggested  more  of  highway  and  traffic  than  we  had 
as  yet  seen.  We  stopped  at  Bandeirinho,  a  few  huts 
and  farm,  and  had  a  glass  of  water  and  witnessed  great 
excitement  amongst  the  juvenile  population  because 
a  cobra  was  killing  all  their  chickens.  All  along  the 
road  to-day  our  way  was  lined  with  a  beautiful  sort 
of  lilac  laburnum.  We  had  plenty  of  level  ground 
for  galloping. 

We  arrived  at  1 2.30  at  a  village  called  Ribeirao  do 
Inferno,  a  few  straggling  houses  and  ranch,  poor  but 
clean.  In  the  ranch  and  its  surroundings  lay  a  sick 
girl,  an  old  woman,  two  young  married  women,  and 
a  man.  As  I  was  known  to  be  European,  they  came 


332      trbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Kurton 

to  ask  me  if  I  had  any  remedies  ;  sickness  was  rare 
here,  and  doctor  or  medicines  unknown.  I  produced 
a  little  medicine  chest,  with  which  they  were  quite 
surprised  and  delighted.  First  I  went  to  the  old 
woman.  She  was  seventy ;  she  had  been  travelling 
along  on  a  mule,  when  she  was  suddenly  seized  with 
spasms,  was  unable  to  proceed,  and  was  carried  into  the 
first  house.  She  was  shut  up  in  the  dark,  and  would 
not  allow  any  light  in  the  room,  where  about  a  dozen 
sympathizers  were  collected,  till  I  absolutely  refused  to 
prescribe  for  her  in  the  dark.  She  then  consented  to 
a  candle  being  brought.  She  then,  after  some  beating 
about  the  bush,  confessed  to  me  that  she  had  eaten 
too  much  cabbage,  upon  which  I  prescribed  for  her 
to  take  a  cup  of  "  English  "  tea  which  I  had  with  me 
with  milk  and  sugar,  and  left  her  quite  happy.  The 
girl  had  a  serious  chill.  I  made  her  some  hot  punch 
of  caxasst  water  and  sugar,  with  a  large  lump  of  hog's 
lard  in  it,  in  default  of  butter,  and  covered  her  up 
with  six  blankets  and  rugs  to  produce  perspiration. 
The  family  fought  very  hard  about  it,  and  declared 
that  she  should  not  and  would  not  drink  it  ;  but 
I  insisted  that  she  must,  and  she  helped  me  by  taking 
to  it  very  kindly.  She  was  quite  well,  but  weak, 
after  a  few  hours.  The  two  young  women  had  head- 
aches from  other  causes,  and  I  gave  them  carbonate 
of  soda,  which  they  insisted  was  sea-salt,  and  imagina- 
tion made  them  sea-sick.  But  the  worst  of  all  was  the 
man,  who  was  seriously  ill,  and  I  found  out  at  last 
it  resulted  from  decayed  teeth,  upon  which  I  told  him 
that  only  a  dentist  could  cure  him.  His  wife  told 


SLonels  TCtoe  to  iRfo  333 

me  with  tears  that  it  was  death  to  have  a  tooth  out, 
and  I  must  give  him  some  medicine  that  would  make 
the  decayed  teeth  drop  out  without  pain  ;  but  I  told 
her  that  that  was  beyond  my,  or  any  one's,  power.  I 
wonder  what  a  London  doctor  would  have  given  for 
my  reputation  that  night  ! 

It  is  worth  noticing  that  to-day  the  carapatos  (ticks) 
were  on  the  decrease.  This  seems  to  be  the  border 
or  barrier  of  their  country  ;  but  I  do  believe  this  place 
to  be  unhealthy,  for  we  were  all  slightly  ailing  that 
night.  A  young  Portuguese  engineer  who  has  been 
educated  in  France  arrived  at  the  ranch  in  the  evening 
en  route  for  Ouro  Preto.  He  told  me  he  had  been  in 
Ouro  Preto  when  we  had  passed  through  it  on  our  way 
out,  and  had  much  wished  to  make  our  acquaintance. 

We  were  rather  lazy  the  next  morning,  and  did  not 
leave  Ribeirao  until  a  few  minutes  to  six.  My  invalids 
were  all  well ;  but  I  only  saw  the  master.  My  four 
men  and  myself  were  all  suffering  from  headache,  so 
the  place  must  have  been  unhealthy.  We  had  nothing 
to  regret  in  starting  so  late,  for  it  was  darker,  colder, 
and  more  mizzly  than  ever.  We  rode  two  and  a 
half  leagues,  or  ten  miles,  before  breakfast.  Neither 
our  road  nor  any  events  were  worthy  of  remark.  The 
scenery  would  have  been  very  beautiful  for  England, 
but  it  was  tame  for  South  America.  We  passed  at 
intervals  a  few  cottages  or  a  solitary  fazenda.  We 
breakfasted  in  the  open  ground  of  a  pretty  ranch,  called 
Floresta,  surrounded  by  wooded  mountains.  There 
we  found  several  men  lassoing  a  struggling  bull,  who 
would  not  consent  to  leave  his  birthplace  and  little 


334      Ube  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

friends,  and  gave  them  about  twenty  minutes'  trouble 
over  every  hundred  yards,  tearing  men  and  trees  down 
with  his  lasso.  Senhor  Jorge  would  go  inside  the  ranch, 
but  I  persisted  in  seeing  the  sport.  We  then  passed 
a  few  straggling  houses ;  then  an  old  fazenda  ;  then  we 
came  to  a  stream  with  one  plank,  which  we  made  our 
animals  cross. 

We  reached  Gama  at  i.io  p.m.,  having  been  out 
for  seven  hours.  I  felt  a  little  tired,  and  declined 
to  ride  any  farther,  as  there  was  no  necessity.  Gama 
is  a  ranch,  and  a  poor,  dirty  one,  in  a  desolate 
spot.  It  was  fortunate  for  me  that  I  arrived  when  I 
did,  for  half  an  hour  later  arrived  en  route  for  some 
distant  fazenda  Senhor  Nicolao  Netto  Carneiro  Seao, 
a  polished  and  travelled  man  who  spoke  excellent 
English.  He  was  travelling  with  his  wife,  children, 
and  servants,  numbering  sixteen  persons,  some  splendid 
animals,  and  a  liteira.  We  had  a  long  conversation 
over  a  gypsy  fire  which  his  servant  made  on  the  ranch 
floor,  during  which  he  told  me  he  had  served  for  five 
years  in  the  British  navy.  He  appeared  to  be  anxious 
to  import  everything  European,  and  to  civilize  his 
country.  He  was  kind  enough  to  say  that  he  longed 
to  meet  Richard,  and  gave  us  a  general  invitation  to 
visit  his  fazcnda,  and  we  exchanged  cards. 

The  next  morning  we  got  up  at  1.30  a.m.,  but  did 
not  start  till  3.30.  The  morning  was  starlight,  with  a 
biting  wind,  but  it  soon  grew  dark  and  cloudy.  We 
had  no  end  of  petty  misfortunes.  My  change  horse, 
being  allowed  to  run  loose,  that  we  might  go  faster, 
instead  of  following  us,  ran  back  to  his  pasturage  of  last 


Xonelg  1Rioe  to  IRio  335 

night.  The  mule  I  was  riding  insisted  on  following 
him,  and  heeded  neither  bit  nor  whip,  but  nearly  left 
me  in  a  ditch.  Our  cargo  mule  took  advantage  of 
the  scrimmage  to  bolt  in  an  opposite  direction.  And 
it  was  at  this  crisis  especially  dark  and  cloudy.  We 
lost  nearly  an  hour  in  collecting  again,  as  we  could 
not  see  each  other  nor  any  path.  It  seemed  a  very 
long  two  leagues  (eight  miles)  before  breakfast.  As 
soon  as  it  was  light  we  could  see  a  church  tower  of 
Barbacena  on  a  neighbouring  hill,  apparently  about 
three  miles  from  us,  but  in  reality  fifteen  miles  distant. 
At  7.10  we  encamped  in  a  clearing.  My  grey 
horse  (the  change)  was  tied  up  to  a  tree  preparatory 
to  being  saddled,  and  got  the  staggers,  threw  himself 
down,  and  rolled  and  kicked  so  that,  when  we  left 
again  at  eight  o'clock,  I  had  to  remount  my  mule 
"  Camondongo."  We  passed  a  village  outside  Barbacena, 
and  met  a  very  large  Brazilian  family  travelling  some- 
where with  horses,  mules,  and  liteiras.  There  were 
so  many  girls  that  it  looked  like  a  school.  We 
stopped  at  the  ranch  of  Boa  Vista  that  I  might  change 
saddles.  The  grey  seemed  all  right  again.  The 
mule  was  done  up.  I  sent  the  cargo  rnules,  servants, 
and  animals  on  to  Registro,  a  league  farther  than 
Barbacena,  and  rode  to  Hermlano's  Hotel,  where  we 
had  originally  put  up  at  Barbacena  when  we  started. 
Here  I  found  Godfrey,  our  former  German  coach - 
driver,  and  arranged  my  passage,  and  found  that 
Hermlano  or  some  other  scoundrel  had  changed  my  cao 
de  fela  pup  for  a  white  mongrel,  which  I  presented 
to  Godfrey.  I  paid  a  visit  of  twenty  minutes  to  a 


336      tTbe  TComauce  of  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

former  hospitable  acquaintance,  Dr.  Regnault,  and  then 
rode  on  five  miles  farther  to  Registro,  and  arrived  at 
1.15  very  tired,  having  been  out  ten  hours. 

Registro,  which  I  have  cursorily  noticed  before,  is  a 
picturesque  fazenda  on  the  roadside,  all  constructed  in 
a  rude  wooden  style,  and  is  a  mule  station.  It  is  a  fine, 
large  building,  and  the  coach,  after  leaving  Barbacena, 
stops  here  first  to  pick  up  passengers  and  baggage. 
There  is  also  a  celebrated  cigarette  manufactory,  which 
contains  two  rooms  full  of  workers,  one  for  men  and  the 
other  for  women  slaves.  I  went  to  visit  them,  and 
bought  a  packet  for  half  a  milreis,  or  thirteen  pence 
(then).  The  cigarettes  are  hard  and  strong,  and  do  not 
draw  well.  I  did  not  like  them.  The  master  makes 
about  i, 600  milreis,  or  about  .£160,  a  month  by  them; 
so  some  people  evidently  find  them  good. 

I  rose  at  3.30  the  next  morning.  Whilst  dressing  I 
heard  what  I  supposed  was  threshing  grain  or  beating 
sacks ;  it  went  on  for  about  thirty  minutes,  and  I  did 
not  pay  any  attention  to  it  till  at  last  I  heard  a  sob  issue 
from  the  beaten  mass  at  the  other  side  of  a  thin  partition 
wall.  I  then  knew  what  was  taking  place,  and  turned 
so  sick  I  could  hardly  reach  the  door.  I  roused  the 
whole  house,  and  called  out  to  the  man  to  cease.  I  begged 
the  girl  slave  off,  and  besought  the  master  to  stop,  for 
I  felt  quite  ill  ;  but  it  was  fully  ten  minutes  before  I 
could  awaken  any  one's  pity  or  sympathy  ;  they  seemed 
to  be  so  used  to  it  they  would  hardly  take  the  trouble 
to  get  up,  and  the  man  who  was  beating  only  laughed 
and  beat  on.  I  nearly  fainted,  though  I  could  only  hear 
and  not  see  the  operation.  I  thought  the  poor  wretch 


1Rtoe  to  1Rto  337 

must  have  been  pounded  to  a  jelly  before  he  left  off; 
but  she  turned  out  to  be  a  fine,  strapping  black  girl, 
with  marvellous  recuperative  powers,  for  when  the  man 
ceased  she  just  gave  herself  a  shake  and  walked  away. 

I  left  Registro  at  7  a.m.  Here  I  was  to  lose  my  escort. 
Senhor  Jorge  and  the  slaves  accompanied  me  to  see  me 
off,  and  appeared  very  sorry  that  our  pleasant  ride  was 
over.  They  were  to  start  at  the  same  time  to  ride 
back  home  to  Morro  Velho.  It  was  quite  a  curious 
sensation,  after  three  months'  absence,  to  find  myself 
once  more  on  a  road,  and  a  road  with  a  coach  going 
to  civilized  haunts.  I  found  the  motion  of  the  coach 
as  unpleasant  as  a  steamer  in  a  gale  of  wind  after 
a  long  stay  on  land. 

We  descended  the  Serra  de  Mantiqueira  so  quickly 
that  I  did  not  recognize  our  former  laborious  ascent. 
I  noticed  the  trees  and  ferns  were  very  beautiful  in 
the  forests  as  we  dashed  along — all  festoons  and  arches. 
We  had  a  most  beautiful  and  extensive  view  of  the 
Serra  de  Mantiqueira  and  the  surrounding  mountains. 
We  then  came  to  our  last  station,  just  outside  Juiz 
de  Fora.  The  country  is  very  much  the  same  during 
all  this  journey,  perpetual  mountain,  valley,  forest,  and 
river,  and  the  only  great  feature  is  the  serra. 

We  drove  up  to  the  hotel  of  Juiz  de  Fora  at 
3.30,  having  done  our  sixty-four  miles  in  eight  hours 
and  twenty-three  minutes.  I  asked  Godfrey  how  it 
was  that  we  had  come  back  so  much  faster  than  we 
made  the  journey  out.  It  transpired  that  he  had  got 
married  in  the  interval,  and  now  had  somebody  waiting 
for  him  at  home. 

VOL.    I.  22 


338      Ube  Vomance  of  Isabel  Xafcp  JSurton 

Some  of  my  coach  companions  came  to  the  hotel, 
one  a  very  much  esteemed  old  man  ;  a  French  engineer, 
with  a  pretty,  delicate  wife  and  child ;  and  three  South- 
erners— General  Hawthorne,  of  the  Southern  army, 
an  intelligent  and  very  remarkable  man,  with  two 
companions.  We  had  rather  a  pleasant  dinner. 

Next  day  was  Sunday,  and  I  called  on  the  padre 
and  went  to  church.  After  this  I  spent  a  pleasant 
afternoon  under  the  Commendador's  orange  trees  with 
the  tangerines.  I  collected  plants  and  roots  to  send 
back  to  Mrs.  Gordon  at  Morro  Velho,  and  was  escorted 
by  the  padre,  the  chief  manager  of  the  company, 
and  the  head  gardener,  who  cut  them  for  me.  Here 
we  found  the  three  Southerners,  who  joined  us,  and 
we  had  a  violent  political  discussion. 

The  coach  left  Juiz  de  Fora  the  next  morning  at 
6.30.  To-day  as  well  as  yesterday  I  was  compelled, 
much  against  the  grain,  to  go  inside  by  Richard's 
express  wish  at  parting.  At  the  station  I  met  Captain 
Treloar  on  his  way  home,  much  better  in  spirits.  He 
wished  me  very  much  to  return  with  him,  which  I 
declined  with  thanks. 

We  soon  came  upon  the  winding  river  Parahybuna. 
We  took  up  three  Brazilian  ladies,  who  were  dread- 
fully frightened  of  the  wild  mules  and  speed,  and  also 
of  the  dust,  and  wanted  to  close  the  windows  in  spite 
of  the  sickening  heat ;  but  I  persuaded  them  otherwise. 
They  wanted  my  place  because  it  faced  the  mules, 
and  also  wished  that  I  should  make  them  a  present 
of  my  aromatic  vinegar.  They  consisted  of  a  young 
married  woman,  whose  husband,  a  mere  boy,  was  on 


3LonelB  TCi&e  to  TCio  339 

the  top  of  the  coach,  and  she  was  chaperoning  two 
raw  young  girl  cousins  on  a  visit  to  her  fazenda  at 
some  distance.  By-and-by  the  boy  husband  got  too 
hot  outside,  and  was  crammed  in  with  us,  five  persons 
when  three  were  more  than  enough,  especially  young 
people,  who  sprawl  about. 

Once  more  we  arrived  under  the  great  granite 
mountain  which  overshadows  the  station  of  Para- 
hybuna.  At  2.30  we  put  down  the  Brazilian  ladies, 
who  mounted  horses  and  rode  somewhere  into  the 
interior,  and  I  was  thankful  for  the  space  and 
coolness. 

Then  we  reached  Posse,  where  we  took  in  a  strapping 
German  girl  with  big,  flat  feet,  who  trod  all  the  way 
upon  mine.  The  German  Protestant  parson  had 
started  with  me  from  Juiz  de  Fora,  but  he  had  to  give 
up  his  place  to  the  Brazilian  ladies,  and  gladly  resumed 
it  when  they  left,  as  the  heat  outside  was  considerable, 
and  besides  which  he  practised  his  little  English  upon 
me.  Soon  after  Posse  arose  the  second  wall  of  granite, 
and  the  scenery  became  doubly  beautiful  and  the  air 
cooler.  We  saw  the  sun  set  behind  the  mountains, 
and  the  scenery  was  fairyland  and  the  air  delicious; 
it  was  an  evening  one  could  not  forget  for  many 
weeks. 

I  arrived  at  Petropolis  at  7  p.m.,  where  I  got  a  hearty 
welcome  and  a  good  dinner,  went  to  bed,  and  slept  as 
soundly  as  a  person  would  who  had  been  out  in  the 
sun  for  twelve  hours  and  had  driven  one  hundred 
miles.  This  did  not  prevent  my  starting  for  Rio  the 
next  morning  at  6  a.m. 


340      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  JBurton 

The  morning  was  clear,  and  we  had  a  pleasant  drive 
down  the  mountains.  When  I  got  on  board  the  little 
steamer  to  cross  the  Bay  of  Rio,  I  hid  in  the  ladies' 
cabin,  for  I  was  ashamed  of  the  state  of  my  clothes. 
I  could  not  explain  to  people  why  I  was  so  remarkable, 
and  I  was  well  stared  at.  My  boots  were  in  shreds, 
my  only  dress  had  about  forty  slits  in  it,  my  hat  was 
in  ribbons,  while  my  face  was  of  a  reddish  mahogany 
hue  and  much  swollen  with  exposure.  I  was  harassed 
by  an  old  Brazilian  lady  in  the  cabin,  who  asked  me 
every  possible  question  on  earth  about  England  ;  and 
at  last,  when  she  asked  me  if  we  had  got  any  bacalhao 
(dried  cod),  to  get  rid  of  her  I  said  "  No !  "  Then 
she  said  she  could  not  think  much  of  a  country  that 
had  no  bacalhao,  to  which  I  returned  no  reply. 

On  arriving  at  Rio,  I  was  told  that  the  Estrangeiros 
Hotel,  where  I  had  left  my  maid  and  my  luggage 
before  starting  for  the  interior  three  months  previously, 
was  full.  As  I  did  not  want  to  be  seen  about  Rio 
in  such  a  plight,  I  waited  till  dusk,  and  then  went  to 
the  next  best  hotel  in  the  town.  The  landlord,  seeing 
a  ragged  woman,  did  not  recognize  me,  and  he  pointed 
to  a  little  tavern  across  the  road  where  sailors'  wives 
were  wont  to  lodge,  and  said,  "  I  think  that  will  be 
about  your  place,  my  good  woman,  not  here."  "  Well," 
I  said,  **  I  think  I  am  coming  in  here  all  the  same." 
Wondering,  he  took  me  upstairs  and  showed  me  a 
garret ;  but  I  would  have  none  of  it,  and  insisted  on 
seeing  his  best  rooms.  There  I  stopped  and  said, 
"  This  will  do.  Be  kind  enough  to  send  this  letter 
for  me  to  the  Estrangeiros." 


1Rioe  to  1Rio  341 

Presently  down  came  my  maid,  who  was  a  great 
swell,  with  my  luggage  and  letters.  After  a  bath  and 
change  of  garments  I  rang  the  bell  and  ordered  supper. 
The  landlord  came  up  himself,  as  I  was  so  strange  a 
being.  When  he  saw  me,  he  said,  "  Did  that  woman 
come  to  take  apartments  for  you,  madam?  I  beg 
your  pardon,  I  am  afraid  I  was  rather  rude  to  her." 
"  Well,"  I  said,  "I  am  'that  woman'  myself;  but  you 
need  not  apologize,  because  I  saw  myself  in  the  glass, 
and  I  don't  wonder  at  it."  He  nearly  tumbled  down  ; 
and  when  I  explained  how  I  came  to  be  in  such  a 
plight,  he  begged  my  pardon  till  I  was  quite  tired  of 
hearing  him. 

I  spent  the  next  few  days  resting  my  still  weak  foot, 
and  reading  and  answering  a  sackful  of  welcome  letters 
from  home,  which  had  accumulated  during  my  three 
months'  absence.  Then  I  went  down  to  Santos. 


CHAPTER  IX 

HOME  AGAIN 
(1867—1869) 

Home!  there  is  magic  in  that  little  word; 
It  is  a  mystic  circle  that  surrounds 
Pleasures  and  comforts  never  known  beyond 
Its  hallowed  limits. 

T  SABEL  did  not  remain  long  at  Santos.  At  the  end 
JL  of  October  she  went  up  to  Rio  to  gain  news  of 
her  husband,  of  whom  she  had  heard  nothing  since  they 
parted  at  Ro^a  Grande  nearly  four  months  before,  when 
he  started  in  his  canoe  down  the  Rio  Sao  Francisco. 
As  he  did  not  return,  she  was  naturally  anxious.  She 
wrote  to  her  mother  : 

"  I  have  come  down  to  Rio  to  meet  Richard.  The 
English  steamer  from  Bahia  came  in  on  November  i . 
I  was  in  a  great  state  of  joyful  excitement  ;  went  on 
board  in  a  man-of-war's  boat.  But,  as  once  before 
when  I  went  to  Liverpool,  Richard  was  not  there,  nor 
was  there  any  letter  or  anything.  I  am  very  uneasy, 
and  unless  within  two  or  three  weeks  some  news  comes 
I  shall  start  to  Bahia  by  steamer,  change  for  the  small 
one  to  Penedo  Alagoas,  and  thence  to  a  tiny  one  just 
put  on  from  Penedo  up  the  river  to  the  falls,  which  are 

342 


1bome  again  343 

scarcely  known  yet  [Paulo  AfFonso  Falls,  the  Niagara 
of  Brazil].  Here  my  difficulties  would  be  great,  as  I 
should  have  to  buy  mules  and  ride  round  an  un- 
navigable  port  and  then  canoe  up.  I  fear  Richard  is  ill, 
or  taken  prisoner,  or  has  his  money  stolen.  He  always 
would  carry  gigantic  sums  in  his  pockets,  hanging  half 
out ;  and  he  only  has  four  slaves  with  him,  and  has  to 
sleep  amongst  them.  I  am  not  afraid  of  anything 
except  the  wild  Indians,  fever,  ague,  and  a  vicious  fish 
which  can  be  easily  avoided ;  there  are  no  other 
dangers.  However,  I  trust  that  news  may  soon  come. 
I  cannot  remain  here  so  long  by  myself  as  another 
month.  I  had  a  narrow  escape  bathing  the  day  before 
yesterday.  What  I  thought  was  a  big  piece  of  sea- 
weed was  a  ground  shark  a  few  yards  from  me  ;  but  it 
receded  instead  of  coming  at  me.  I  shall  feel  rather 
shy  of  the  water  in  future." 

As  the  steamers  came  in  from  Bahia  Isabel  went  on 
board  them  one  after  another  in  the  hope  of  greeting 
her  husband  ;  but  still  he  did  not  come.  At  last,  when 
she  had  made  herself  quite  ill  with  anxiety,  and  when 
she  had  fully  determined  to  start  in  search  of  him,  he 
turned  up  unexpectedly — of  course  by  the  one  steamer 
which  she  did  not  meet — and  he  was  quite  angry  that 
she  had  not  come  on  board  to  greet  him.  After  telling 
her  all  his  adventures  while  canoeing  down  the  river 
(which  have  been  fully  described  elsewhere  *),  they  went 
down  to  Santos. 

They  moved  about  between  Santos  and  Sao  Paulo  for 
the  next  four  months,  until,  in  April,  1868,  Burton  broke 

1  The  Highlands  of  Brazil,  by  Richard  Burton. 


344      TTbe  "Romance  of  Ssabel  Xaog  JBurton 

down.  The  climate  at  last  proved  too  much  even  for 
his  iron  frame,  and  he  had  a  very  severe  illness  ;  how 
severe  it  was  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  letter : 

"  SAO  PAULO,  May  3,  1868. 

"  MY  DEAREST  MOTHER, 

"  I  have  been  in  the  greatest  trouble  since  I  last 
wrote.  You  may  remember  Richard  was  very  ill  with 
a  pain  in  the  side.  At  last  he  took  to  incessant 
paroxysms  of  screaming,  and  seemed  to  be  dying,  and  I 
knew  not  what  to  do.  Fortunately  a  doctor  came  from 
Rio  on  the  eighth  day  of  his  illness.  I  sent  at  once  to 
him,  and  he  kindly  took  up  his  quarters  in  our  house. 
On  hearing  my  account,  and  examining  Richard,  he 
said  he  did  not  know  if  he  could  save  him,  but  would 
do  his  best.  He  put  twelve  leeches  on,  and  cupped 
him  on  the  right  breast,  lanced  him  in  thirty-eight 
places,  and  put  on  a  powerful  blister  on  the  whole  of 
that  side.  He  lost  an  immense  deal  of  black  clotted 
blood.  It  would  be  impossible  to  detail  all  we  have 
gone  through.  This  is  the  tenth  day  the  doctor  has 
had  him  in  hand,  and  the  seventeenth  of  his  illness. 
Suffice  it  to  say  that  the  remedies  have  been  legion,  and 
there  has  been  something  to  do  every  quarter  of  an 
hour  day  and  night.  For  three  days  the  doctor  was 
uncertain  if  he  could  live.  The  disease  is  one  that  grows 
upon  you  unconsciously,  and  you  only  know  it  when  it 
knocks  you  down.  It  was  congestion  of  the  liver, 
combined  with  inflammation  of  the  lung,  where  they 
join.  The  agony  was  fearful,  and  poor  Richard  could 
not  move  hand  or  foot,  nor  speak,  swallow,  or  breathe 


Ibome  Hoafn  345 

without  a  paroxysm  of  pain  that  made  him  scream  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour.  When  I  thought  he  was  dying, 
I  took  the  scapulars  and  some  holy  water,  and  I  said, 
4  The  doctor  has  tried  all  his  remedies  ;  now  let  me  try 
one  of  mine.*  I  put  some  holy  water  on  his  head, 
and  knelt  down  and  said  some  prayers,  and  put  on  the 
blessed  scapulars.  He  had  not  been  able  to  raise  his 
head  for  days  to  have  the  pillow  turned,  but  he  raised 
it  of  his  own  accord  sufficiently  to  let  the  string  pass 
under  his  head,  and  had  no  pain.  It  was  a  silent 
consent.  He  was  quite  still  for  about  an  hour,  and  then 
he  said  in  a  whisper,  c  Zoo,  I  think  I'm  a  little  better.' 
From  then  to  now  he  slowly  and  painfully  got  better, 
and  has  never  had  a  bad  paroxysm  since.  Day  and  night 
I  have  watched  by  his  bed  for  seventeen  days  and 
nights,  and  I  begin  to  feel  very  nervous,  as  I  am  quite 
alone  ;  he  won't  let  any  one  do  anything  for  him  but 
me.  Now,  however,  thank  God !  all  the  symptoms  are 
disappearing  ;  he  is  out  of  danger  ;  he  can  speak  better, 
swallow,  and  turn  a  little  in  bed  with  my  help.  To-day 
I  got  him  up  in  a  chair  for  half  an  hour  for  the  first 
time,  and  he  has  had  chicken  broth.  For  fifteen  days 
nothing  passed  his  lips  but  medicine.  He  is  awfully 
thin  and  grey,  and  looks  about  sixty.  He  is  quite 
gaunt,  and  it  is  sad  to  look  at  him.  The  worst  of  it  is 
that  I'm  afraid  that  his  lungs  will  never  be  quite  right 
again.  He  can't  get  the  affected  lung  well  at  all.  His 
breathing  is  still  impeded,  and  he  has  a  twinge  in  it. 
He  cannot  go  to  England  because  of  the  cold  ;  but  if  he 
is  well  enough  in  three  months  from  this  to  spare  me, 
I  am  to  go  and  remain  till  Easter.  He  has  given  up 


346      ttbe  ttomance  ot  Isabel  Xafcg  JSurton 

his  expedition  (I  am  afraid  he  will  never  make  another), 
but  will  take  a  quiet  trip  down  to  the  River  Plata  and 
Paraguay  (a  civilized  trip).  My  servants  have  all  been 
very  kind  and  attentive,  and  our  doctor  excellent,  and 
the  neighbours  have  all  shown  the  greatest  kindness  and 
sympathy.  I  have  not  been  out  of  the  house  for  ages, 
but  I  believe  there  have  been  all  sorts  of  religious  fetes 
going  on,  and  our  poor  old  bishop  has  died  and  was 
buried  with  great  pomp.  I  tried  to  go  out  in  the 
garden  yesterday,  but  I  nearly  fainted,  and  had  to  come 
back.  Don't  mention  my  fatigue  or  health  "in  writing 
back." 

Burton  recovered  slowly.  His  illness,  however,  had 
the  effect  of  disgusting  him  with  Brazil,  and  of  making 
him  decide  to  throw  up  his  consulate,  a  thing  he  had 
long  been  wishing  to  do,  if  a  favourable  opportunity 
presented  itself.  The  present  was  a  decidedly  unfavour- 
able opportunity,  but  nevertheless  he  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  could  not  stand  Brazil  any  longer. 
"  It  had  given  him  his  illness  ;  it  was  far  from  the 
world  ;  it  was  no  advancement ;  it  led  to  nothing."  He 
had  been  there  three  years,  and  he  wanted  to  be  on 
the  move  again. 

His  slightest  wish  was  his  wife's  law.  Though  she  was 
in  a  way  sorry,  for  Sao  Paulo  had  been  the  only  home 
she  had  ever  enjoyed  with  her  husband  so  far,  she  at 
once  set  to  work  to  carry  out  his  desire.  She  sold 
up  everything  at  Sao  Paulo.  Burton  applied  to  the 
Foreign  Office  for  leave  ;  and  that  obtained,  they  went 
down  to  Santos  together.  Here  it  was  decided  that 


Dome  Boain  347 

they  should  part  for  a  time.  He  was  to  go  to  the  Pacific 
coast  for  a  trip,  and  return  by  way  of  the  Straits  of 
Magellan,  Buenos  Ayres,  and  Rio  to  London.  Isabel 
was  to  go  direct  to  London,  see  if  she  could  not  induce 
the  Foreign  Office  to  give  him  another  post,  transact 
certain  business  concerning  mines  and  company  pro- 
moters, arrange  for  the  publication  of  certain  books, 
and  await  the  arrival  of  her  husband. 

While  they  were  at  Santos  Isabel  wrote  the  following 
letter  to  her  mother  : 

"THE  COAST  NEAR  SANTOS,  June  16,  1868. 

<c  In  this  country,  if  you  are  well,  all  right ;  but 
the  moment  you  are  ailing,  lie  down  and  die,  for  it  is 
no  use  trying  to  live.  I  kept  Richard  alive  by  never 
taking  my  eyes  off  him  for  eight  weeks,  and  perpetually 
standing  at  the  bedside  with  one  thing  or  another.  But 
who  in  a  general  way  will  get  any  one  to  do  that  for 
them  ?  I  would  now  like  to  pass  to  something  more 
cheerful. 

"  The  first  regatta  ever  known  took  place  at  Santos 
last  Sunday  for  all  nations — English,  American,  French, 
German,  Portuguese,  and  Brazilian,  and  native  caiques  : 
English  and  American  in  white  flannel  and  black  belts  ; 
German,  scarlet ;  French,  blue  ;  Portuguese,  white 
with  blue  belts  and  caps ;  Brazilians,  like  parrots,  in 
national  costume,  all  green,  with  yellow  fixings  and 
scarlet  caps.  Our  boat  was  of  course  expected  to  win. 
It  was  manned  by  four  railway  clerks,  who  had  ordered 
a  big  supper  on  the  strength  of  the  winnings  ;  but,  poor 
things !  they  had  such  weak  arms,  and  they  boasted 


348      ube  Vomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

and  talked  so  much,  that  they  were  exhausted  before 
they  started.  The  'English  ladies'  (?)  objected  to 
their  rowing  in  jerseys,  as  improper  !  And  they  did 
not  know  how  to  feather  their  oars  (had  perhaps  never 
heard  of  it),  so  they  came  in  last.  The  Portuguese,  who 
stepped  quietly  into  their  boat  without  a  word,  came  in 
first,  Brazil  second,  German  third,  and  the  three  big 
nations,  French,  American,  and  English,  last.  We  last 
by  half  a  boat's  length  !  Tremendous  fighting  and 
quarrelling  ensued,  red  and  angry  faces,  and  *  bargee ' 
language.  I  am  very  glad  ;  it  will  produce  a  good 
feeling  on  the  Brazilian  side,  a  general  emulation,  and 
take  our  English  snobs  down  a  peg,  which  they  sadly 
want.  The  native  caiques  were  really  pretty — black 
men  with  paddles  standing  upright,  and  all  moving 
together  like  a  machine. 

"I  leave  Sao  Paulo  on  the  3ist,  Santos  on  the  ist, 
Rio  on  the  9th,  and  will  reach  home  early  in  September. 
I  could  not  stay  here  any  longer  without  a  change.  I 
think  you  had  better  leave  town  for  your  country 
change  now,  as  I  cannot  leave  London  earlier  than  the 
middle  of  October.  All  my  wealth  depends  on  my 
editing  a  book  and  a  poem  of  Richard's  and  two  things 
of  my  own  for  the  October  press ;  and,  moreover,  I  am 
grown  so  fat  and  coarse  and  vulgar  I  must  brush  myself 
up  in  town  a  little  before  appearing,  and  I  have  no 
clothes,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  faint  when  you  see  my 
complexion  and  my  hands.  So  try  and  start  early  out 
of  town,  and  return  early.  I  can  join  in  any  fun  in 
October.  I  got  your  little  note  from  Cossy.  I  dare  say 
the  woods  are  very  nice  ;  but  I  think  if  you  saw  the 


1bome  Hgatn  349 

virgin  forests  of  South  America  in  which  I  am  now 
sitting  alone,  far  from  any  human  creature,  with  gaudy 
butterflies  and  birds  fluttering  around  me,  big  vegeta- 
tion, and  a  shark  playing  in  the  boiling  green  sea,  which 
washes  up  to  my  feet,  and  the  bold  mountain  back- 
ground on  a  very  blue  sky,  the  thick  foliage  covered 
with  wild  flowers  and  creepers  such  as  no  hothouse  in 
England  could  grow,  arum  leaves,  one  alone  bigger 
than  me,  which  shade  me  from  the  burning  sun,  the 
distant  clatter  of  monkeys,  the  aromatic  smells  and 
mysterious  whisperings  of  the  forest,  you  would  own 
that  even  the  Cossy  woods  were  tame  ;  for  to  be 
thoroughly  alone  thus  with  Nature  is  glorious.  Chico 
is  cooking  a  mysterious  mess  in  a  gypsy  kettle  for  me ; 
my  pony  is  browsing  near  ;  and  I,  your  affectionate 
child,  am  sitting  in  a  short  petticoat  and  jacket,  bare- 
legged to  the  knees,  writing  to  you  and  others  to  catch 
the  next  mail. 

"  Richard  starts  with  me,  and  turns  the  opposite  way 
from  Rio.  He  goes  via  Rosario,  Rio  Grande  do  Sul, 
Buenos  Ayres,  Monte  Video,  the  Plata  River,  and 
Paraguay,  to  see  the  war.  A  voyage  de  luxe  for  him, 
for  these  places  are  all  within  writing  latitudes  and 
some  little  civilization." 

On  July  24  Isabel  embarked  for  London,  and  arrived 
at  Southampton  on  September  i,  after  a  rough  voyage. 
Her  mother  and  two  of  her  sisters  came  down  to 
Southampton  to  meet  her  ;  and  great  was  the  joy  of 
their  meeting. 

As  soon  as  Isabel   had  settled  down  at  home  she 


35°      TTbe  "Romance  of  -Jsabel  Xaog  JSurton 

turned  to  her  work,  and  good  luck  attended  her. 
She  carried  through  all  her  husband's  mining  business, 
and  arranged  for  the  publication  of  his  books,  notably 
for  the  one  he  had  just  written  on  'The  Highlands  of 
'Brazil.  As  it  was  to  be  brought  out  at  once,  she 
was  also  commissioned  to  correct  and  pass  the  proofs 
for  press.  She  did  so  ;  but  as  the  book  contained  certain 
things  of  which  she  did  not  approve,  she  inserted  the 
following  preface  in  the  book  by  way  of  protest.  It 
is  quoted  in  full,  because  it  illustrates  a  much-vexed 
question — the  attitude  which  she  adopted  towards  her 
husband's  writings.  Her  action  in  these  matters  has 
called  down  upon  her  the  fiercest  criticism  ;  but  this 
brief  preface  shows  that  her  views  were  consistent 
throughout,  and  her  husband  was  fully  aware  of  them 
when  he  left  her  his  sole  literary  executor. 

Before  the  reader  dives  into  the  interior  of  Brazil  with  my 
husband  as  a  medium,  let  me  address  two  words  to  him. 

I  have  returned  home,  on  six  months'  leave  of  absence,  after 
three  years  in  Brazil.  One  of  the  many  commissions  I  am  to 
execute  for  Captain  Burton  is  to  see  the  following  pages  through 
the  press. 

It  has  been  my  privilege,  during  those  three  years,  to  have  been 
his  almost  constant  companion  ;  and  I  consider  that  to  travel, 
write,  read,  and  study  under  such  a  master  is  no  small  boon  to 
any  one  desirous  of  seeing  and  learning. 

Although  he  frequently  informs  me,  in  a  certain  oriental  way, 
that  "  the  Moslem  can  permit  no  equality  with  women,"  yet  he 
has  chosen  me,  his  pupil,  for  this  distinction,  in  preference  to  a 
more  competent  stranger. 

As  long  as  there  is  anything  difficult  to  do,  a  risk  to  be  incurred, 
or  any  chance  of  improving  the  mind  and  of  educating  oneself,  I 
am  a  very  faithful  disciple ;  but  I  now  begin  to  feel  that,  while 


LADY    BURTON    IN    1869. 


[Page  35°- 


1bome  Hcjain  35  * 

he  and  his  readers  are  old  friends,  I  am  humbly  standing 
unknown  in  the  shadow  of  his  glory.  It  is  therefore  time  for 
me  respectfully  but  firmly  to  assert  that,  although  I  proudly 
accept  of  the  trust  confided  to  me,  and  pledge  myself  not  to 
avail  myself  of  my  discretionary  powers  to  alter  one  word  of 
the  original  text,  I  protest  vehemently  against  his  religious 
and  moral  sentiments,  which  belie  a  good  and  chivalrous  life. 
I  point  the  finger  of  indignation  particularly  at  what  misrepre- 
sents our  Holy  Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  at  what  upholds 
that  unnatural  and  repulsive  law,  Polygamy,  which  the  Author  is 
careful  not  to  practise  himself,  but  from  a  high  moral  pedestal 
he  preaches  to  the  ignorant  as  a  means  of  population  in  young 
countries. 

I  am  compelled  to  differ  with  him  on  many  other  subjects ;  but, 
be  it  understood,  not  in  the  common  spirit  of  domestic  jar,  but 
with  a  mutual  agreement  to  differ  and  enjoy  our  differences, 
whence  points  of  interest  never  flag. 

Having  now  justified  myself,  and  given  a  friendly  warning  to 
a  fair  or  gentle  reader — the  rest  must  take  care  of  themselves — 
I  leave  him  or  her  to  steer  through  these  anthropological  sand- 
banks and  hidden  rocks  as  best  he  or  she  may. 

Isabel's  greatest  achievement  at  this  time  was  the 
obtaining  for  her  husband  the  long-coveted  Consulship 
of  Damascus  from  Lord  Stanley,  who  was  an  old  friend 
and  neighbour  of  her  uncle,  Lord  Gerard.  Lord  Stanley 
(afterwards  Lord  Derby)  was  then  Foreign  Secretary 
in  Disraeli's  brief  first  Administration.  He  was  a 
friend  of  the  Burtons,  and  had  a  high  opinion  of  them 
both.  To  him  Isabel  repaired,  and  brought  the  whole 
of  her  eloquence  and  influence  to  bear  :  no  light  thing, 
as  Burton's  enemies — and  he  had  many — guessing 
what  she  was  after,  endeavoured  to  influence  the 
Foreign  Secretary  by  representing  that  his  appointment 
would  be  unpopular,  both  with  the  Moslems  and  the 


35*       tTbe  Romance  of  Isabel  %afc£  JBurton 

Christian  missionaries  in  Syria.  In  Lord  Stanley's 
opinion,  however,  Burton  was  the  man  for  the  post,  and 
he  appointed  him  Consul  of  Damascus,  with  a  salary  of 
£  i  ,000  a  year.  Isabel  telegraphed  and  wrote  the  glad 
news ;  but  neither  her  letter  nor  her  telegram  reached 
her  husband,  who  was  then  roving  about  South  America. 
Burton  heard  the  news  of  his  appointment  accidentally 
in  a  cafe  at  Lucca.  He  telegraphed  at  once  accepting 
it,  and  started  for  England. 

In  the  meantime  there  had  been  a  change  of  Govern- 
ment, and  Lord  Clarendon  succeeded  Lord  Stanley 
at  the  Foreign  Office.  Burton's  enemies  renewed 
their  opposition  to  his  appointment,  and  besought 
Lord  Clarendon  to  cancel  it.  Isabel,  whose  vigilance 
never  slumbered  for  one  moment,  got  wind  of  this, 
and  immediately  dispatched  copies  of  the  following 
letter  to  her  husband  at  Rio,  Buenos  Ayres,  and 
Valparaiso  : 

"LONDON,  January  7,  1869. 

"Mv  DARLING, 

"  If  you  get  this,  come  home  at  once  by  shortest 
way.  Telegraph  from  Lisbon  and  Southampton,  and 
I  will  meet  you  at  latter  and  have  all  snug. 

"  Strictly  private.  T^he  new  Government  have  tried 
to  upset  some  of  the  appointments  made  by  the  last. 
There  is  no  little  jealousy  about  yours.  Others  wanted 
it  even  at  £700  a  year,  and  were  refused.  Lord 
Stanley  thinks,  and  so  do  I,  that  you  may  as  well  be 
on  the  ground  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  Your  faithful  and  attached  wife." 


Dome  Hoain  353 

Burton  did  not  receive  this  letter,  as  he  had  already 
started  for  home  with  all  speed.  His  wife  met  him 
at  Southampton.  Burton  went  to  the  Foreign  Office, 
and  had  a  long  interview  with  Lord  Clarendon, 
who  told  him  that  the  objections  to  his  appointment 
at  Damascus  were  "  very  serious."  Burton  assured 
Lord  Clarendon  that  the  objections  raised  were  un- 
founded. Lord  Clarendon  then  Jet  the  appointment 
go  forward,  though  he  plainly  warned  Burton  that, 
if  the  feeling  stated  to  exist  against  him  at  Damascus 
should  prevent  the  proper  performance  of  his  official 
duties,  he  would  immediately  recall  him.  It  is 
necessary  to  call  attention  to  this,  as  it  has  a  direct 
bearing  on  the  vexed  question  of  Burton's  recall  two 
years  later. 

No  shadow  of  that  untoward  event,  however,  dimmed 
the  brightness  of  Burton's  prospects  just  now.  He 
gave  an  assurance  that  he  would  act  with  "unusual 
prudence,"  and  it  was  hinted  that  if  he  succeeded 
at  Damascus  he  might  eventually  get  Morocco  or 
Teheran  or  Constantinople.  Isabel  writes  :  "We  were, 
in  fact,  at  the  zenith  of  our  career."  She  might  well 
think  so,  for  they  were  basking  in  the  unaccustomed 
light  of  the  official  favour ;  they  received  a  most  en- 
thusiastic welcome  from  their  'friends,  and  were  dined 
and  feted  everywhere.  The  new  year  (1869)  opened 
most  auspiciously  for  them. 

They  spent  the  spring  in  London  and  in  paying  a 
round  of  visits  to  many  friends.  Later  they  crossed 
over  to  Boulogne,  and  visited  the  old  haunts  where 
they  met  for  the  first  time  eighteen  years  before. 

VOL.  i.  23 


354      TTbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xa£>g  JBurton 

Burton's  leave  was  now  running  short,  and  the  time 
was  drawing  near  when  he  was  due  at  Damascus.  He 
decided  to  go  to  Vichy  and  take  a  month's  course  of 
the  waters,  and  then  proceed  via  Brindisi  to  Damascus. 
His  wife  was  to  come  out  to  Damascus  later.  At 
Boulogne  therefore  they  parted  ;  he  went  to  Vichy, 
and  she  was  to  return  to  London  and  carry  out  the 
usual  plan  of  "pay,  pack,  and  follow." 

Isabel  went  round  by  way  of  Paris,  and  then  she 
began  to  feel  unhappy  at  being  separated  from  her 
husband,  and  to  want  to  join  him  at  Vichy.  "  I  did 
not  see  why  I  could  not  have  the  month  there  with 
him,  and  make  up  double-quick  time  after."  So 
instead  of  returning  to  London,  she  started  off  for 
Vichy,  and  spent  the  month  there  with  her  husband. 
Algernon  Swinburne  and  Frederick  Leighton  (both 
great  friends  of  the  Burtons)  were  there  also,  and 
they  made  many  excursions  together.  When  Burton's 
<f  cure "  was  at  an  end,  his  wife  accompanied  him  as 
far  as  Turin.  Here  they  parted,  he  going  to  catch 
the  P.  &  O.  at  Brindisi,  en  route  for  Damascus,  and 
she  returning  to  London  to  arrange  and  settle  every- 
thing for  a  long  sojourn  in  the  East. 

She  was  in  England  for  some  weeks  (the  autumn  of 
1869),  and  up  to  her  eyes  in  work.  She  had  to  see 
a  great  many  publishers  for  one  thing,  and  for  another 
she  was  busy  in  every  way  preparing  herself  for 
Damascus.  She  went  down  to  Essex  to  see  the  tube- 
wells  worked,  and  mastered  the  detail  of  them,  as 
Burton  was  anxious,  if  possible,  to  produce  water  in  the 
desert.  She  also  took  lessons  in  taking  off  wheels  and 


•foome  H0afn  355 

axles,  oiling  and  putting  them  on  again  ;  and  lessons 
in  taking  her  own  guns  and  pistols  to  pieces,  cleaning 
and  putting  them  together  again.  Then  she  had  to 
buy  a  heap  of  useful  and  necessary  things  to  stock  the 
house  at  Damascus  with.  One  of  her  purchases  almost 
rivalled  her  famous  "jungle  suit."  She  invested  in  a 
pony-carriage,  a  thing  unheard  of  in  Syria ;  and  her 
uncle,  Lord  Gerard,  also  made  her  a  present  of  an  old 
family  chariot.  This  tickled  the  late  Lord  Houghton 
immensely,  and  he  made  so  many  jokes  about  "  Isabel 
driving  through  the  desert  in  a  chariot  drawn  by 
camels  "  that  she  left  it.  But  she  took  out  the  pony- 
carriage  ;  and  as  there  was  only  one  road  in  the  country, 
she  found  it  useless,  though  she  was  lucky  enough  to 
sell  it  to  some  one  at  Damascus,  who  bought  it  not 
for  use,  but  as  a  curio. 

Other  work  of  a  different  nature  also  came  to 
her  hand,  the  work  of  vindicating  her  husband  and 
defending  his  position.  At  a  meeting  of  the  Royal 
Geographical  Society,  at  which  she  was  present,  Sir 
Roderick  Murchison,  who  was  in  the  chair,  spoke  of 
f '  Central  or  Equatorial  Africa,  in  which  lie  those  great 
water-basins  which,  thanks  to  the  labours  of  Speke, 
Grant,  and  Baker,  are  known  to  feed  the  Nile."  After 
the  meeting  was  over  she  went  up  to  Sir  Roderick 
and  asked  him  why  Burton  had  not  been  mentioned 
with  the  others.  He  replied  it  was  an  oversight,  and 
he  would  see  that  it  was  rectified  in  the  reports  to 
the  press.  It  was  not.  So  she  wrote  to  The  Times, 
protesting  against  the  omission  of  her  husband's  name, 
and  to  The  Athenaeum.  These  letters  have  been 


356      Ube  TRomance  ot  3sabel  Xa&E  JBurton 

published  in  her  Life  of  Sir  Richard.  But  the 
following  letter  from  Sir  Roderick  Murchison,  called 
forth  by  her  letter  to  The  Times,  and  her  reply  thereto, 
have  not  been  published  : 

"  16,  BELGRAVE  SQUARE,  November  14,  1869. 

"  MY  DEAR  MRS.  BURTON, 

"  I  regret  that  you  did  not  call  on  me  as  you 
proposed,  instead  of  making  your  complaint  in  The 
Times. 

"  No  change  in  the  wording  of  the  address  could 
have  been  made  when  you  appealed  to  me  ;  for  the 
printed  article  was  in  the  hands  of  several  reporters. 

u  Nor  can  I,  in  looking  at  the  address  (as  now 
before  me),  see  why  you  should  be  offended  at  my 
speaking  of  '  the  great  Lake  Tanganyika,  first  visited 
by  Burton  and  Speke.' 

"  My  little  opening  address  was  not  a  history  of  all 
African  discoveries  ;  and  if  you  will  only  refer  to  the 
twenty-ninth  volume  of  The  Journal  of  the  Royal 
Geographical  Society  (1859),  you  will  see  how,  in 
presenting  the  medal  to  your  husband  as  the  chief  of  the 
East  African  Expedition,  I  strove  to  do  him  all  justice 
for  his  successful  and  bold  explorations.  But  I  was 
under  the  necessity  of  coupling  Speke  with  Burton  as 
joint  discoverers  of  the  Lake  Tanganyika^  inasmuch  as 
they  both  worked  together  until  prostrated  by  illness  ; 
and  whilst  your  husband  was  blind  or  almost  so,  Speke 
made  all  the  astronomical  observations  which  fixed  the 
real  position  of  places  near  the  lake. 

"  Thus  your  husband,  in  his  reply  to  me  after  receiv- 


Dome  Baafn  357 

ing  the  medal,  says,  'Whilst  I  undertook  the  history, 
ethnography,  the  languages  and  peculiarities  of  the  people, 
to  Captain  Speke  fell  the  arduous  task  of  delineating  the 
exact  topography  and  of  laying  down  our  positions  by 
astronomical  observations,  a  labour  to  which  at  times 
even  the  undaunted  Livingstone  found  himself  unequal ' 
(Journal  R.  G.  S.9  vol.  xxix.,  p.  97). 

"  I  beg  you  also  to  read  your  husband's  masterly 
and  eloquent  description  of  the  lake  regions  of  Central 
Equatorial  Africa  in  the  same  volume.  No  memoir  in 
our  journal  is  more  striking  than  this,  and  I  think  it 
will  gratify  you  to  have  Captain  Burton's  most  effective 
writing  brought  once  more  to  the  notice  of  geographers. 
I  will  with  great  pleasure  add  a  full  footnote  to  the 
paragraph  in  which  I  first  allude  to  the  Tanganyika, 
and  point  out  how  admirably  Captain  Burton  has  illus- 
trated that  portion  of  Lake  Tanganyika  which  he  and 
his  companion  visited  ;  though,  as  you  know,  he  was 
then  prostrated  by  illness  and  almost  blind. 

"  With  this  explanation,  which  will  appear  in  all  the 
official  and  public  copies  of  my  little,  imperfect,  opening 
address,  I  hope  you  will  be  satisfied,  and  exonerate  me 
from  any  thought  of  not  doing  full  justice  to  your 
meritorious  husband,  who,  if  he  had  been  in  health, 
would  doubtless  have  worked  out  the  path  which 
Livingstone  is  still  engaged  in  discovering  :  the  settle- 
ment of  whether  the  waters  of  Tanganyika  flow  into 
the  said  discovered  Albert  Nyanza  by  Baker. 

"  Believe  me  to  be  ever,  dear  Mrs.  Burton, 
"  Yours  sincerely, 

"RODERICK  MURCHISON." 


Ube  TComance  ot  Isabel  Xaos  Burton 

"14,  MONTAGU  PLACE,  MONTAGU  SQUARE,  W., 
"November  15,  1869. 

"DEAR  SIR  RODERICK, 

"  I  have  every  intention  of  calling  upon  you,  and 
I  think  you  know  I  have  always  looked  upon  you  as  a 
very  sincere  and  particular  friend ;  nor  had  I  the  slightest 
idea  of  being  offended  with  you ;  and  if  you  have  read 
my  letter,  you  will  have  seen  that  I  particularly  laid  a 
stress  upon  your  kindness  ;  but  what  you  and  I  know 
on  this  subject,  and  perhaps  many  connected  with  the 
Royal  Geographical  Society,  is  now,  considering  the 
fast  flow  of  events,  almost  ancient  history,  unless  brought 
before  the  public.  I  did  feel  nettled  the  other  night ; 
but  I  might  have  kept  quiet,  had  I  not  had  many  visits 
and  letters  of  condolence  on  my  husband  having  been 
passed  over.  I  then  felt  myself  obliged  to  remind  the 
public  what  the  Society  the  other  night  had  forgotten. 
Had  I  visited  you,  and  had  we  talked  it  over,  and  had 
the  reports  been  run  over  and  corrected,  it  would  hardly 
have  set  the  large  number  of  people  right  who  were  at 
the  meeting  of  last  Monday,  who  heard  Captain  Burton 
mentioned  only  once,  and  the  other  four  twenty  times. 
Indeed,  I  was  not  offended  at  the  only  mention  you 
did  make  of  him,  but  at  the  mention  of  the  other 
three,  excluding  him.  I  shall  be  truly  grateful  for  your 
proposed  notice  of  him.  And  do  not  think  I  grudge 
anything  to  any  other  traveller.  I  am  glad  you  men- 
tioned Speke  with  him.  Speke  was  a  brave  man,  and 
full  of  fine  qualities.  I  grudge  his  memory  no  honour 
that  can  be  paid  ;  I  never  wish  to  detract  from  any  of 
the  great  merits  of  the  other  four.  I  only  ask  to 


Ifoome  Hsain  359 

maintain  my  husband's  right  place  amongst  them, 
which  is  only  second  to  Livingstone.  I  hope  I  shall 
see  you  in  a  few  days,  and 

"  Believe  me,  most  sincerely  yours, 

"ISABEL  BURTON." 

A  month  later  all  her  business  was  completed,  and 
Isabel  left  London  for  Damascus,  to  enter  upon  the 
most  eventful  epoch  of  her  eventful  life. 


CHAPTER  X1 

MY  JOURNEY  TO  DAMASCUS 
(1869—1870) 

The  East  is  a  Career. 

DISRAELI'S  "  Tancred" 

I  SHALL  not  readily  forget  the  evening  of  Thursday, 
December  16,  1869.  I  had  a  terrible  parting 
from  my  dear  ones,  especially  from  my  mother.  As  a 
Frenchman  would  say,  "  Je  quittais  ma  mere."  We  all 
dined  together — the  last  dinner — at  five  o'clock,  and 
three  hours  later  I  set  out  for  the  station.  My  brothers 
and  sister  came  down  to  Victoria  to  see  me  off,  and 
at  the  last  moment  my  brother  Rudolph  decided  to 
accompany  me  to  Dover,  for  which  I  was  truly  thankful. 
It  was  a  wild  night,  and  the  express  to  Dover  rushed 
through  the  raging  winter  storm.  My  mind  was  a 
curious  mixture  of  exultation  and  depression,  and  with 
it  all  was  a  sense  of  supernormal  consciousness  that 
something  of  this  had  been  enacted  before.  About  a 
fortnight  previously  I  dreamed  one  of  my  curious 
dreams.  I  thought  that  I  came  to  a  small  harbour, 

1  The  chapters  on  Damascus  are  compiled  from  letters  and 
diaries  of  Lady  Burton,  and  from  some  of  the  rough  manuscript 
notes  from  which  she  wrote  her  Inner  Life  of  Syria. 

360 


-Journeg  to  Damascus  361 

and  it  was  as  black  as  night,  and  the  wind  was  sobbing 
up  mournfully,  and  there  were  two  steamers  in  the 
harbour,  waiting.  One  refused  to  go  out,  but  the  other 
went,  and  came  to  grief.  So  in  the  train,  as  we  tore 
along,  I  prayed  silently  that  I  might  have  a  sign  from 
Heaven,  and  it  should  be  that  one  captain  should  refuse 
to  go.  Between  my  prayers  my  spirits  rose  and  fell. 
They  rose  because  my  destination  was  Damascus,  the 
dream  of  my  childhood.  I  should  follow  the  foot- 
steps of  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu,  Lady  Hester 
Stanhope,  the  Princess  de  la  Tour  d'Auvergne,  that 
trio  of  famous  European  women  who  lived  of  their 
own  choice  a  thoroughly  Eastern  life,  and  of  whom  I 
looked  to  make  a  fourth.  They  fell  because  I  was  leav- 
ing behind  me  my  home,  my  family,  and  many  dear 
ties  in  England,  without  any  definite  hope  of  return. 
We  arrived  at  Dover,  and  walked  to  the  boat,  and 
could  hardly  keep  on  our  legs  for  the  wind.  When  I 
set  out  to  embark,  lo  !  there  were  two  steamers.  The 
Ostend  boat  refused  to  go  out  ;  the  other  one  was 
preparing  to  start.  Now  I  was  most  anxious  to  sail 
without  an  hour's  delay,  but  I  turned  to  my  brother 
and  said,  "  Rody,  if  it  is  my  duty  to  go  I  will  go,  for 
I  do  not  like  to  stay  on  my  own  responsibility.  I 
am  scrupulous  about  Dick's  time  and  money,  and  he 
told  me  to  lose  no  time."  The  answer  was,  "  Duty 
be  damned  !  I  won't  let  you  go."  Still  I  hesitated,  and 
as  I  was  between  the  ways  an  old  sailor  stepped  out 
of  the  darkness  as  I  stood  on  the  quay,  and  said,  "  Go 
home,  missie  ;  I  haven't  seen  such  a  night  this  forty 
year."  I  remembered  my  dream,  and  decided. 


362       TTbe  IRomance  of  Isabel  Xaog  JSurton 

I  turned  into  the  nearest  shelter,  a  small  inn  opposite 
the  boats,  so  as  to  be  able  to  start  at  daylight ;  and  the 
result  justified  my  foresight.  The  captain  of  the  first 
vessel,  by  which  I  had  intended  to  go,  went  out.  After 
shipping  awful  seas,  and  being  frightfully  knocked 
about,  he  moored  some  way  off  Calais  Pier ;  but  the  sea 
and  the  wind  drove  the  boat  right  on  to  it,  and  carried 
away  one  of  the  paddles,  the  tiller,  and  hurt  several 
passengers.  The  waves  drove  her  backwards  and 
forwards  on  to  the  pier  like  a  nutshell  for  half  an  hour, 
and  she  was  nearly  going  down,  but  some  smacks  hauled 
her  off  and  out  to  sea  again.  She  beat  about  all  night, 
and  returned  to  Dover  in  a  pitiable  plight,  having 
neither  landed  the  passengers  nor  the  baggage. 

It  was  thus  I  met  her  when  I  embarked  on  the 
other  boat  at  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning.  The 
weather  was  terribly  rough  even  then,  but  at  least 
we  had  the  advantage  of  daylight.  We  had  a  rough 
passage,  the  sea  mountains  high  ;  but  we  reached  Calais 
eventually,  where  I  managed  to  get  some  food  at  the 
buffet,  such  as  it  was,  but  I  had  to  sit  on  the  floor  with 
a  plate  on  my  lap,  so  great  and  rude  was  the  crowd. 
The  boat  accident  caused  me  to  miss  my  proper  train 
to  Marseilles,  and  to  lose  two  of  my  many  trunks.  It 
would  almost  seem  as  if  some  malignant  spirit  had 
picked  these  two  trunks  out,  for  the  one  contained 
nearly  all  my  money,  and  the  other  all  my  little 
comforts  for  the  journey.  I  had  to  decide  at  once 
between  missing  my  passage  at  Marseilles  and  forsaking 
my  missing  trunks.  I  decided  to  go  on,  and  leave 
them  to  look  after  themselves.  Six  months  later  they 


Soutmes  to  Damascus  363 

turned  up  at  Damascus  safe  and  sound.  We  travelled 
through  the  weary  night  and  most  of  the  next  day,  and 
only  reached  Marseilles  at  5  p.m.,  after  having  met 
with  many  contretemps  and  discomforts.  I  at  once  went 
on  board,  arranged  my  cabin,  did  all  my  little  business, 
and  went  back  alone  to  the  hotel  to  have  a  hot  bath 
and  a  cutlet,  having  been  nearly  forty-eight  hours  on 
the  road  without  rest  or  stopping. 

Our  ship  was  one  of  the  P.  &  O.  floating  hotels, 
superbly  fitted.  We  steamed  out  from  Marseilles  at 
half-past  nine  the  next  morning.  It  was  a  great 
pleasure  to  exchange  the  fogs  and  cold  of  England 
for  the  climate  of  the  sunny,  smiling  south,  the  olive 
groves,  and  the  mother-o'-pearl  sea ;  yet  these  beauties 
of  Nature  have  no  meaning  in  them  when  the  heart 
feels  lonely  and  desolate,  as  mine  did  then. 

Yet  on  the  whole  I  had  a  very  pleasant  passage  from 
Marseilles  to  Alexandria.  We  had  not  more  than  fifty 
passengers  on  board,  all  Anglo-Indians,  and  middling 
class.  I  got  a  very  nice  cabin  forward,  all  to  myself, 
with  my  maid.  The  ship  was  full  of  young  married 
couples  going  out  to  India.  They  were  not  used  to 
ships,  and  were  evidently  unaware  of  the  ventilators  at 
the  top  of  the  cabin,  so  at  night  one  got  the  full  benefit 
of  their  love-making.  One  night,  for  instance,  I  heard 
a  young  bride  fervently  calling  upon  her  "Joey"  to 
kiss  her.  It  was  amusing  at  first,  but  afterwards  it 
became  rather  monotonous.  I  did  not  know  a  soul  on 
board  with  whom  I  could  exchange  ideas,  and  I  kept 
as  much  as  possible  to  myself  without  appearing  rude. 
I  was  asked  to  choose  my  place  at  table,  and  I  humbly 


364      TTbe  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

chose  one  some  way  down ;  but  the  captain  asked  me  to 
move  up  to  the  seat  of  honour  on  his  right  hand,  and  I 
felt  quite  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  distinction,  because 
not  a  soul  on  board  knew  anything  about  me.  I  did 
not  find  the  captain,  though,  a  bad  companion.  He  was 
a  short,  fat,  dark,  brisk  little  man,  just  the  sort  of  man  a 
captain  and  a  sailor  should  be.  I  am  glad  to  say  he 
had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  being  unduly  attentive. 
The  conversation  was  dull  at  table.  The  ladies  talked 
chiefly  about  Colonel  "  This  "  and  Captain  "  That," 
peppering  their  conversation  with  an  occasional 
Hindustani  word,  a  spice  of  Anglo-Indian  gossip,  and 
plentiful  regimentalisms,  such  as  "  griffin,"  "  tiffen," 
"  the  Staff,"  and  "  gymkhana,"  all  of  which  was  Greek 
to  me. 

Take  it  all  round,  the  six  days'  passage  was  not  so 
bad.  I  particularly  admired  the  coast  of  Sicily,  the 
mountains  rising  one  above  another,  Etna  smoking  in 
the  distance,  the  sea  like  glass,  and  the  air  adding  a 
sensuous  charm,  a  soft,  balmy  breeze  like  the  Arabian 
seas.  Yet,  as  I  had  been  spoiled  by  Brazilian  scenery, 
I  did  not  go  into  the  same  ecstasies  over  it  as  my 
fellow-passengers.  We  spent  Christmas  Eve  as  our 
last  night  on  board.  In  the  evening  we  went  in  for 
snapdragon  and  other  festivities  of  the  season,  and 
tried  to  be  as  merry  as  we  could.  The  ship  could 
not  go  into  the  harbour  of  Alexandria  at  night ;  it  has  a 
dangerous  entrance  ;  so  we  sent  up  our  rockets  and  blue- 
lights,  and  remained  outside  the  lighthouse  till  dawn. 

On  Christmas  Day  morning  I  first  set  my  foot  on 
Eastern  ground.  We  steamed  into  the  harbour  of 


Journey  to  Damascus  365 

Alexandria  slowly ;  everybody  was  going  on  to  India 
except  me,  and  I  landed.  The  first  thing  I  did  was 
to  go  straight  to  a  telegraph  office  and  pay  nineteen 
shillings  and  sixpence  for  a  telegram  to  Richard  at 
Beyrout,  which  of  course  arrived  there  after  I  did.  I 
cannot  say  that  I  was  struck  with  Alexandria  ;  in  point 
of  fact,  I  mentally  called  it  "  a  hole,"  in  vulgar  parlance. 
I  went  to  the  Hotel  de  1'Europe,  a  second-rate  hotel, 
though  one  of  the  best  in  Alexandria.  It  was  not  so 
bad  as  might  have  been  expected.  In  the  afternoon 
we  made  a  party  up  to  see  Pompey's  Pillar  and 
Cleopatra's  Needle  and  the  bazars  and  other  things. 
But  I  am  bound  to  say  that,  on  the  whole,  I  thought 
Alexandria  "  neither  fish,  flesh,  fowl,  nor  good  red 
herring."  It  was  a  sort  of  a  jumble  of  Eastern 
and  Western,  and  the  worst  of  each.  The  only 
amusing  incident  which  happened  to  me  there  was 
when  two  dragomans  got  up  a  fictitious  quarrel  as  to 
who  should  take  me  to  the  bazars.  Of  course  they 
appealed  to  me,  and  I  said,  "  You  may  both  come,  but 
I  shall  only  pay  one."  Whereupon  they  fastened  upon 
each  other  tooth  and  nail,  tore  each  other's  clothes, 
and  bit  each  other's  cheeks.  These  two,  though  I 
never  suspected  it  at  the  time,  were,  it  appeared,  in 
the  habit  of  thus  dealing  with  ladies  and  missionaries 
and  amiable  English  tourists  ;  and  they  always  got  up 
this  farce,  because,  to  avoid  a  street  fight,  the  kind- 
hearted  looker-on  would  generally  employ  and  pay 
them  both,  and  perhaps  give  them  a  tip  in  addition 
to  calm  them  down.  But  I  innocently  did  the  right 
thing  without  knowing  it.  I  had  so  often  seen  negroes 


366       Ube  TRomance  of  Ssabel  Xafcs  Surton 

fight  with  knives  in  Brazil  that  the  spectacle  of  two 
dragomans  biting  each  other's  cheeks  appeared  to  me 
to  be  supremely  ridiculous.  I  laughed,  and  waited 
patiently  until  one  of  them  pretended  to  be  very  much 
hurt.  Then  turning  to  the  other,  I  said,  "  You  seem 
the  better  man  ;  I  will  take  you  " ;  and  they  were  both 
very  much  crestfallen. 

I  spent  the  evening  alone  in  my  small  room  at  the 
hotel.  A  strange  Christmas  truly. 

Next  morning  I  went  on  board  the  Russian  Ceres, 
which  was  bound  for  Beyrout,  a  three  days'  passage. 
It  was  an  uneventful  journey.  The  best  thing  about  the 
boat  was  the  caviare,  which  was  delicious.  The  deck 
was  simply  filthy,  as  it  was  crowded  with  Orientals 
from  every  part  of  the  East,  all  nations  and  creeds  and 
tongues.  But  it  was  the  most  interesting  part  of  the 
ship  to  me,  as  I  had  always  been  dreaming  of  the  East. 
Each  of  these  Eastern  families  had  their  mattresses  and 
their  prayer-carpets,  on  which  they  seemed  to  squat 
night  and  day.  No  matter  how  rough  or  how  sea-sick, 
they  were  always  there  saying  their  prayers,  or  devour- 
ing their  food,  or  dozing,  or  reclining  on  their  backs. 
Occasionally  they  chanted  their  devotions  through 
their  noses.  I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  sound  ; 
and  when  I  laughed  they  did  the  same.  I  used  to 
bring  all  the  sweets  out  of  the  saloon  for  the  children, 
so  they  were  always  glad  to  see  me.  The  other 
passengers  thought  it  passing  strange  that  I  should 
elect  to  spend  the  whole  of  my  days  with  "  Eastern 
rabble." 

We  passed  Port  Said  and  got  to  Jaffa  in  about  two 


Journey  to  Damascus  367 

days.  I  was  not  impressed  with  Jaffa.  The  town 
looks  like  dirty,  well-rubbed  dice  running  down  the 
side  of  a  conical-shaped,  green  hill.  Here  I  sent 
another  telegram  to  Damascus  to  Richard — the  Russian 
Vice-Consul  kindly  took  charge  of  it — but  all  the  same 
it  never  reached  its  destination,  though  I  am  certain  it 
was  not  the  Consul's  fault.  At  Jaffa  we  picked  up 
an  Effendi  and  his  harim,  and  two  Italian  musicians, 
who  played  the  concertina  and  guitar.  The  latter  pair 
confided  in  me,  and  said  they  had  made  a  mariage  de 
cceur,  and  were  really  very  hard  up,  in  fact  dependent 
on  their  talent  ;  so  I  hit  on  a  plan  to  help  them.  I 
asked  the  captain  to  let  us  have  a  little  music  after 
breakfast  and  dinner.  They  played,  and  I  carried 
round  the  plate,  and  my  gleanings  paid  their  passage 
and  something  more.  As  for  the  Effendi's  harim 
she  was  carefully  veiled  and  wrapped  up  in  an  tzar,  or 
sheet,  and  confined  to  her  cabin,  except  when  she  was 
permitted  at  rare  intervals  to  appear  on  deck.  Her 
Effendi  jealously  watched  her  door,  to  see  that  nobody 
went  in  but  the  stewardess.  However,  she  freely 
unveiled  before  me.  I  was  not  impressed  with  her 
charms,  and  I  thought  what  a  fine  thing  the  sheet  and 
the  veil  would  be  to  some  of  our  European  women. 
There  is  an  irresistible  suggestion  of  concealed  charm 
about  them.  It  was  my  first  experience  of  a  real 
harim. 

On  the  third  day,  very  early,  we  anchored  off 
Beyrout.  The  town  as  viewed  from  the  water's  edge 
is  beautiful.  Its  base  is  washed  by  the  blue  Mediter- 
ranean. It  straggles  along  the  coast  and  crawls  up  part 


368      Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  3Burton 

of  the  lower  hills.  The  yellow  sand  beyond  the  town, 
and  the  dark  green  pine  forests  which  surround  it,  con- 
trast well  with  the  deep  blue  bay  and  the  turquoise 
skies.  It  is  backed  by  the  splendid  range  of  the 
Lebanon.  The  air  is  redolent  with  the  smell  of  pine 
wood.  Every  town  in  the  East  has  its  peculiar  odour, 
and  when  once  you  have  been  in  one  you  can  tell  it 
blindfold  afterwards.  I  went  ashore,  and  put  up  at  a 
clean  and  comfortable  hotel  facing  the  sea,  which  was 
kept  by  a  Greek.  This  hotel  later  on  came  to  be  to 
my  eyes  the  very  centre  of  civilization  ;  for  during  our 
sojourn  at  Damascus  Beyrout  was  our  Biarritz,  and 
this  little  hotel  the  most  luxurious  house  in  Syria. 
Here  I  had  breakfast,  and  after  that  I  called  on  our 
Consul-General.  His  wife  was  ill  in  bed,  but  he 
asked  me  kindly  to  remain  to  luncheon,  and  showed 
me  how  to  smoke  my  first  narghileh.  I  was  very 
anxious  to  start  at  once  for  Damascus,  but  the  diligence 
had  gone.  So  I  had  to  stop,  willy-nilly,  for  the  night 
at  Beyrout.  In  the  evening  the  Duchesse  de  Persigny 
arrived  from  Damascus,  and  sent  me  word  that  she 
would  like  to  dine  with  me.  Of  course  I  was  de- 
lighted. She  gave  me  some  news  of  Richard,  and 
enlivened  my  dinner  very  much  by  anecdotes  of 
Damascus.  She  was  a  very  witty,  eccentric  woman, 
as  every  one  knows  who  had  to  do  with  her  when 
she  was  in  England.  She  had  many  adventures  in 
Damascus,  which  she  related  to  me  in  her  racy, 
inimitable  way.  It  didn't  sound  so  bad  in  French, 
but  I  fear  her  humour  was  a  trifle  too  spicy  to 
bear  translation  into  plain  English  prose.  When  I 


5outnes  to  Damascus  369 

got  to  Damascus,  I  heard  a  good  deal  more  about  her 
f '  goings  on ' '  there. 

I  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep,  for  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  was  at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  To-morrow  I 
was  to  realize  the  dream  of  my  life.  I  was  to  leave 
behind  me  everything  connected  with  Europe  and  its 
petty  civilization,  and  wend  my  way  to  "  The  Pearl  of 
the  East."  As  soon  as  you  cross  the  Lebanon  Range 
you  quit  an  old  life  for  a  new  life,  you  forsake  the 
new  world  and  make  acquaintance  with  the  old  world, 
you  relapse  into  a  purely  oriental  and  primitive  phase 
of  existence. 

Early  the  next  morning  "the  private  carriage" 
which  the  Consul-General  had  kindly  obtained  for  me, 
a  shabby  omnibus  drawn  by  three  old  screws,  made  its 
appearance.  I  was  to  drive  in  it  over  the  Lebanons, 
seventy-two  miles,  to  Damascus  ;  so  I  naturally  viewed 
it  with  interest,  not  unmingled  with  apprehension. 
Quite  a  little  crowd  assembled  to  see  me  off,  and 
watched  with  interest  while  my  English  maid,  a  large 
pet  St.  Bernard  dog,  my  baggage,  and  myself  were 
all  squeezed  into  the  omnibus  or  on  top  of  it.  The 
Consul-General  sent  his  kawwass  as  guard.  This 
official  appeared  a  most  gorgeous  creature,  with  silver- 
mounted  pistols  and  all  sorts  of  knives  and  dangling 
things  hanging  about  him.  He  rejoiced  in  the  name  of 
Sakharaddin,  which  I  pronounced  "  Sardine,"  and  this 
seemed  to  afford  great  amusement  to  the  gaping  crowd 
which  had  assembled  to  see  me  off. 

The  drive  from  Beyrout  to  Damascus  was  charming, 
and  it  lasted  two  days. 

VOL.I*  24 


37°       Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaop  JBurton 

First  we  drove  over  the  Plain  of  Bey  rout,  behind  the 
town.  The  roadside  was  lined  with  cactus  hedges  and 
rude  cafes,  which  are  filled  on  Sundays  and  holidays  by 
all  classes.  They  go  to  smoke,  sip  coffee  and  raki,  and 
watch  the  passers-by.  Immediately  on  arriving  at  the 
foot  of  the  Lebanon,  we  commenced  a  winding,  steep 
ascent,  every  turn  of  which  gave  charming  views  of  the 
sea  and  of  Beyrout,  which  we  did  not  lose  sight  of  for 
several  hours.  We  wound  round  and  round  the  ascent 
until  Beyrout  and  the  sea  became  invisible.  The  cold 
made  me  hungry,  and  I  refreshed  myself  with  some 
bread,  hard-boiled  eggs,  and  a  cigarette.  "Sardine" 
was  keeping  Ramadan,  but  the  sight  of  these  luxuries 
tempted  him,  and  he  broke  his  fast.  I  couldn't  help 
offering  him  something,  he  looked  so  wistful  !  At 
last  we  reached  the  top,  and  a  glorious  wintry  sunset 
gave  us  a  splendid  view.  It  was  of  course  midwinter, 
and  one  saw  little  of  the  boasted  fertility  of  the  Lebanon. 
After  the  beauties  of  Brazil  the  scenery  looked  to  me 
like  a  wilderness  of  rock  and  sand,  treeless  and  barren  ; 
the  very  mountains  were  only  hills.  I  could  not  help 
contrasting  the  new  world  and  the  old.  In  Brazil, 
though  rich  in  luxuriant  vegetable  and  animal  life, 
there  is  no  history — all  is  new  and  progressive,  but 
vulgar  and  parvenu  ;  whereas  Syria,  in  her  abomination 
of  desolation,  is  the  old  land,  and  she  teems  with  relics 
of  departed  glory.  I  felt  that  I  would  rather  abide 
with  her,  and  mourn  the  past  amid  her  barren  rocks 
and  sandy  desert,  than  rush  into  the  progress  and  the 
hurry  of  the  new  world. 

We  descended  the  Lebanon  at  a  full  canter  into  the 


3ourne£  to  Damascus  371 

Buka'a  Plain.  On  the  road  I  met  three  strangers,  who 
offered  me  a  little  civility  when  I  was  searching  for  a 
glass  of  water  at  a  khan,  or  inn.  As  I  was  better 
mounted  than  they,  I  said  that  in  the  event  of  my 
reaching  our  night-halt  first  I  would  order  supper  and 
beds  for  them,  and  they  informed  me  that  every  house 
on  the  road  had  been  retenue  for  me,  so  that  I  was 
really  making  quite  a  royal  progress.  I  was  able  to 
keep  my  promise  to  them.  The  halt  was  at  Shtora, 
a  little  half-way  inn  kept  by  a  Greek.  The  three 
travellers  soon  came  up.  We  supped  together  and 
spent  a  pleasant  evening.  They  turned  out  to  be 
a  French  employe  at  the  Foreign  Office,  a  Bavarian 
minister  on  his  travels,  and  a  Swedish  officer  on  leave. 

The  next  morning  we  parted.  My  new  acquaintances 
set  out  in  an  opposite  direction,  and  I  went  on  to 
Damascus.  We  trotted  cheerfully  across  the  rest  of 
the  Buka'a  Plain,  and  then  commenced  the  ascent  of  the 
Anti-Lebanon.  To  my  mind  the  Anti-Lebanon,  off 
the  beaten  track,  is  wilder  and  more  picturesque  than 
the  other  range.  The  descent  of  the  Anti-Lebanon  we 
did  at  a  good  pace,  but  it  seemed  a  long  time  until  we 
landed  on  the  plain  Es  Sahara.  That  reached,  com- 
pensation for  the  ugly  scenery  we  had  to  pass  through 
began  when  we  entered  a  beautiful  mountain  defile, 
about  two  hours  from  Damascus.  Here,  between 
mountains,  runs  the  road  ;  and  the  Barada — the  ancient 
Abana,  they  say — rushes  through  the  mountains  and  by 
the  roadside  to  water  the  gardens  of  Damascus. 

Between  Salahiyyeh  and  Damascus  is  a  quarter  of 
an  hour's  ride  through  gardens  and  orchards.  I  had 


372      Ube  -Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

heard  of  them  often,  and  of  the  beautiful  white  city, 
with  her  swelling  domes,  tapering  minarets,  and  glitter- 
ing golden  crescents  looming  against  the  far  horizon 
of  the  distant  hills.  So  I  had  heard  ot  Damascus,  so  I 
had  pictured  it,  and  so  I  often  saw  it  later  ;  but  I  did 
not  see  it  thus  on  this  my  first  entrance  to  it,  for  it  was 
winter.  As  we  rumbled  along  the  carriage  road  I  asked 
ever  and  again,  "  Where  are  the  beautiful  gardens  of 
Damascus  ?  "  "  Here,"  said  the  kawwass,  pointing  to 
what  in  winter-time  and  to  English  eyes  appeared 
only  ugly  shrubberies,  wood  clumps,  and  orchards.  I 
saw  merely  scrubby  woods  bordered  by  green,  which 
made  a  contrast  to  the  utter  sterility  of  Es  Sahara. 
We  passed  Dummar,  a  village  which  contains  several 
summer  villas  belonging  to  the  Wali  (the  Governor- 
General  of  Syria)  and  other  personages.  The  Barada 
ran  along  the  right  of  the  road,  and  gradually  broadened 
into  the  green  Merj,  which  looked  then  like  a  village 
common.  And  thus  I  entered  Damascus. 

We  passed  a  beautiful  mosque,  with  the  dome 
flanked  by  two  slender  minarets.  I  scarcely  noticed 
it  at  the  time,  for  I  drove  with  all  haste  to  the  only 
hotel  in  Damascus — "  Demetri's."  It  is  a  good  house 
with  a  fine  courtyard,  which  has  orange  and  lemon  trees, 
a  fountain  full  of  goldfish  in  it,  and  a  covered  gallery 
running  round  it.  All  this  would  have  been  cool  and 
pleasant  in  the  summer,  but  it  was  dark,  damp,  and 
dreary  that  winter  evening.  I  must  own  frankly  that 
my  first  impression  of  Damascus  was  not  favourable, 
and  a  feeling  of  disappointment  stole  over  me.  It  was 
very  cold  ;  and  driving  into  the  city  as  I  did  tired  out, 


Sourneg  to  Damascus  373 

the  shaky  trap  heaving  and  pitching  heavily  through 
the  thick  mire  and  slushy,  narrow  streets,  filled  with 
refuse  and  wild  dogs,  is,  to  speak  mildly,  not  liable 
to  give  one  a  pleasant  impression. 

However,  all  my  discomfort,  depression,  and  disap- 
pointment were  soon  swallowed  up  in  the  joy  of 
meeting  Richard,  who  had  also  put  up,  pending  my 
appearance,  at  this  hotel.  He  came  in  about  an  hour 
after  my  arrival,  and  I  found  him  looking  ill  and  worn. 
After  our  first  greetings  were  over  he  told  me  his 
reception  at  Damascus  had  been  most  cordial,  but  he 
had  been  dispirited  by  not  getting  any  letters  from 
me  or  telegrams.  They  all  arrived  in  a  heap  some 
days  after  I  came.  And  this  explained  how  it  was 
that  he  had  not  come  to  meet  me  at  Beyrout,  as  I  had 
expected  him  to  do.  In  fact,  I  had  felt  sorely  hurt 
that  he  had  not  come.  But  he  told  me  he  had  gone 
to  Beyrout  over  and  over  again  to^meet  me,  and  I 
had  not  turned  up,  and  now  the  steamer  by  which  I 
had  arrived  was  the  only  one  which  he  had  not  gone 
to  meet.  He  was  feeling  very  low  and  sad  about  my 
non-appearance.  It  was  therefore  a  joyful  surprise 
for  him  when  he  came  in  from  his  lonely  walk  to  find 
me  settled  down  comfortably  in  his  room.  Though  he 
greeted  me  in  that  matter-of-fact  way  with  which  he 
was  wont  to  repress  his  emotions,  I  could  feel  that 
he  was  both  surprised  and  overjoyed.  He  had  already 
been  three  months  at  Damascus,  and  the  climate  and 
loneliness  had  had  a  bad  effect  upon  him,  both  mentally 
and  physically.  However,  we  had  a  comfortable  little 
dinner,  the  best  that  "  Demetri's "  could  give  us, 


374       Ube  "Romance  of  Isabel  Xaog  Burton 

which  was  nothing  special,  and  after  dinner  was  over 
we  warmed  ourselves  over  a  mangal,  a  large  brass  dish 
on  a  stand,  full  of  live  charcoal  embers.  Then  we  had 
a  smoke,  and  began  to  discuss  our  plans  for  our  new 
home. 

It  had  taken  me  fifteen   days  and    nights   without 
stopping  to  come  from  London  to  Damascus. 


. 

END    OF    VOL.    I. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

305  De  Neve  Drive  -  Parking  Lot  17  •  Box  951388 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  90095-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library  from  which  It  was  borrowed. 


